


My Blood, Your Blood

by WVW



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: Blood Sharing, Consensual Underage Sex, Daddy Issues, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, Oral Sex, Other, Uncle/Niece Incest, Underage Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-02-26 09:03:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 121,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13232481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WVW/pseuds/WVW
Summary: With an activated plan to shed The Hollow and reunite the Mikaelsons, Hope goes missing on the eve of graduation. Only one piece of Inadu remains in Elijah, whom she has taken partial control of. Klaus and Hayley must reunite and work together as parents (or more?) to save their teenage daughter. Klaus learns his little girl is not who he imagined her to be. Dark themes ahead.





	1. Sandman

**Song rec: "Sandman" by SYML  
Ch. 1 **

Everyone's favorite color seemed to be blue. To Hope Mikaelson, it symbolized fear and abandonment. It was a melancholy color that hung in the sky by day and glowed ominously through her dreams by night. She dipped her paint brush, coating it thickly, before applying to canvas. She couldn't remember what color his eyes were. Brown maybe. The memories ran together. She painted them blue.

A buzz sounded out from the windowsill of the old lofted barn turned art studio. Probably her mother wanting to know why she wasn't with all the other excited teens at Mystic Grill. Graduation was around the corner and she  _should_  be excited. She should be surrounded by peers and sneaking sips of beer and singing karaoke in her mom's old cowgirl boots. Truth was, nobody wanted her there anymore anyway.

Hope sighed heavily and tossed the paint brush into the dirty water cup as her phone buzzed incessantly. It clattered to the wooden floor, masking the sounds of footsteps behind her. When she saw the name, she smiled.

"Surprise," he murmured warmly.

Hope spun around to peer up at his mossy green eyes. She let him kiss her, run his fingers down her sweat-dampened back, and push her onto the pile of quilts they always fucked on.

She came up for air with a sultry laugh, "Don't you have students coming soon?"

"Maybe," he shrugged,"but how am I supposed to concentrate when I know you are up in the loft wearing my favorite dress?"

Hope nipped at his nose before tugging at his short salt and peppered beard. The art teacher made her stomach do flips every time.

"Well," she tapped a finger thoughtfully at her chin, "I suppose I could take it off if it's that distracting."

He laughed his full bellied laugh and kissed her softly this time. She felt it in her toes.

"It is stifling hot up here Miss Mikaelson."

"And to think of how much I pay to rent this space. It's lovely in the fall at least."

"And will you be here in the fall to enjoy this prime spot of real estate?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"A little birdy told me your family is moving back to New Orleans after graduation." He narrowed his eyes playfully, "Are you just going to disappear on me, little girl?"

Hope rolled her eyes and played with a button on his shirt, "If that little birdy is blonde and reeks of my father's cologne, then you can ignore her chirping. New Orleans has never been home."

"You say that about Mystic Falls," he cocked his head.

Her eyes flicked between his, irritation licking her chest. He smoothed her unruly curls from her brow as if sensing her familiar temper.

"I should get back," she muttered, wiggling out from beneath him. He let out a short sigh.

His lips were cool on the nape of her neck as she thrust her things back into the old corduroy tote she'd taken from Aunt Freya. She paused when he pushed his body flush to her back, his hands creeping down her forearms. A sliver of sun beamed through the circle window she'd installed herself last year so that she could watch the horses while she painted. It caught the gleam of his wedding band and her heart felt heavier.

"Don't leave yet," he whispered. Hope's thoughts drifted to the last man who pleaded with her to stay. Everyone found out about him and what she had done. His daughter…her _friend_ …

Hope brushed him off and muttered in her descent down the rickety wooden ladder, "You're right. Home is with my family and you need to get back to yours."

He called after her as she tugged open the large creaking barn door.

"I'll clear out the loft space by the end of the week," she replied without turning around.

It was better this way. Goodbyes were not her forte.

 

//

It was not too often Klaus Mikaelson felt nervous. He was top of the food chain after all. Save for his tyrant of a son Marcellus Gerard of course. But, he was under control as long as dear father let petulant adopted son sit on the throne. For now. Alas, these nerves were entirely saved for his other child. His Hope. He has not lain eyes on her in nearly nine years. Hope; the beautiful daughter of the Queen of wolves and he, the hybrid vampire-wolf King of New Orleans-and the world if he were hungry enough to claim it so. But, his hunger had always been set aside for centuries of protecting his kin and maintaining his reputation as the most terrifying creature of the supernatural community.

"Why do you have that maniacal grin all over your face?" Caroline asked from the passenger seat. They had fought over who would drive to town from the airport but he had won when he reminded her he was in a hurry. She drove as if she were the ancient one. It was only cute when he had nowhere to be but with her.

He snatched the sunglasses off her head and placed them on the bridge of his nose, "I will see my daughter in less than an hour and time has never moved slower."

She grabbed them back with an adorable huff and said, "Hayley wants us to meet at the school…"

Sensing the hesitation in her voice, Klaus peered at her profile as the car squeaked to a halt under the red light.

"But…?"

Caroline worried her lip and said, "But Hope didn't show up for magic lessons today."

"And what is the policy for attendance at Hogwarts anyhow? Perhaps she had more important things to tend to," Klaus reasoned. His Harry Potter jokes never got old. Really, what did a Mikaelson witch need with magic lessons? From his understanding, she had mastered it all. According to his sister Freya, Hope was top of her class and displayed powers only written about before his mother had ever come to her own powers.

"Yeah, maybe."

Klaus decided to ignore the layer of doubt inking through his cloud of joy. Caroline obviously had something to say that she did not want to say. Or perhaps a certain mother of his child had scared her into not saying. That was more likely. Hayley Marshall-Kenner. She was a frightening little thing when she wanted to be. She was also the only person he trusted more than himself to keep his daughter from harm's way. Surely, whatever Caroline was holding back, it was of no concern. Once Hope was where she belonged amongst her entire family, matters of the past would fizzle out. Anything that did not, he would annihilate.

"Maybe just go straight to Hayley's," Caroline suggested, pulling out her phone to text rapidly with manicured thumbs.

"Did you get your nails done on account of my return?"

"Ew, no. The color matches my ceremony dress." She rolled her eyes at him when she realized he was kidding.

He let out a chuckle and murmured, "It is just that the last time you visited me in Paris, I recall telling you how visually stimulating your painted fingers were wrapped around my cock."

She dropped her phone and her jaw. He couldn't stop laughing as she blushed and shook her head, muttering things like "you're disgusting" and "I can't believe I still let you touch me" with a smile on her goddess mouth.

A silence settled in the car after the amusement was replaced with contemplation. Hayley had only visited him once in all the years he had stayed away to keep Hope safe. It was during a short stay in Atlanta that she happened to be passing through on her way to pick up another unfortunate lone wolf. Hayley fancied herself the mother of all newly turned and scared werewolves. Picking them up off the street like malnourished strays and depositing them into the new division of the Salvatore School of misfits. Hayley had cried when she saw him. Not because they shared any sort of buried love for one another, but because she was reminded of the person she did love. That they both loved.

"Have those daughters of yours found Elijah yet?" Klaus glanced at her. She was reading a text, mouthing the words silently.

"No, they think he must be cloaked still," she glanced between him and the screen, "and no, we still can't figure out why."

He did not say it, though he itched for the words to come out. Her girls were from a powerful line, but they were not practiced enough to figure this out. He wanted Freya on this but she was spread thin with extracting Inadu from their sister Rebekah. Three down, one to go. If they could find the bloody eldest Mikaelson brother that is…

"Inadu is proving to be quite the cunt. Rebekah told me as soon as the wench left my body, she felt her like a storm inside. I cannot fathom what Elijah feels right now but it is imperative we find him soon," Klaus said, gripping the steering wheel.

"Lovely language. But yeah, she's been plaguing Hope with those nightmares more and more. Hayley says Hope is up most the night just to avoid sleeping."

Klaus cringed. His daughter deserved better. He knew Hayley felt responsible in a way, as she shared blood with the monstrosity that was Inadu. The spirit of the Native American witch that started the werewolf curse had been quartered and buried within four Mikaelson siblings in an effort to weaken her. Her goal is to regain control of a body and sacrifice his family in an attempt to take down Marcel and take back New Orleans and the coven that stirred angrily against them.

"Inadu's spirit rests in a dark object while one piece resides in my brother. Tell me we can ease my daughter's suffering and destroy The Hollow once and for all," he seethed. Nothing made him angrier than the suffering of his child. Nothing made his gums pinch with the promise of fangs and blood like an attack on his family.

Caroline laid a hand at his shoulder, "hey…it's okay. Ric has that part covered. All we need is the dagger and a whole lot of witch power."

He relaxed under her gentle touch. He needed to have more patience, as everyone kept reminding him. As soon as Rebekah joined him Inadu free, Freya could locate Elijah. They were nearly there, all they were waiting on was the passing of time. Niklaus Mikaelson had lived over a millennium. Time, he had learned, would come and go whether he welcomed it or not.

Caroline turned up the radio and flashed him a dazzling smile; pearly teeth and ruby lips that matched her nails. He opened his mouth to make a vulgar comment about oral sex but decided against it as she sang along to Billie Holiday.

The lazy tune drifted between them as the car zoomed smoothly through familiar roads leading into Mystic Falls. The song brought him back to a time that he was happy. His brother smiling around a cigar; _I'll be seeing you in all the old familiar places_. His sister swaying in his arms, his chin resting on golden blonde; _I'll find you in the morning sun. The blood of a young pretty thing pooling in their mouths as they laughed. God, how they laughed._

__

__

_And when the night is new. I'll be looking at the moon, but I'll be seeing you._

 

//

Hayley could be seen pacing an old porch long before Klaus's car crunched over the long gravel driveway. All the money he had given her access to and she purchased an old farmhouse that sat on the outskirts of town. From the looks of it, perhaps the money had gone into the interior-or so he hoped.

"She looks pissed," Caroline muttered.

"I believe that's just how she looks, love." Caroline swatted his arm.

Klaus parked next to a muddy pick up truck with faded lettering, Larry's tractor repair. He stared at Hayley walking back and forth on the porch in her bare feet. She was speaking to someone on the phone. He flexed his vampire hearing, trying to catch the words. Before he could, she hung up and waved halfheartedly towards them.

His boots disturbed the dirt as he followed Caroline up the creaking patina stairs. His eyes were drawn to signs of their life there. A small princess bike with flat tires leaned against the railing, discarded muddy boots near the welcome mat, and a hound dog too enthralled with the blast of sun to lift his head from a nap.

"That's Bruno. He came with the house along with the truck," Hayley sighed, raking both hands through her hair. It was shorter now, reaching her chin.

"Quaint," Klaus replied, offering a small smile.

Hayley's eyes were scanning the yard behind him when she muttered, "If she doesn't answer her phone I'll have to start looking."

"Jo and Lizzie said they definitely saw her go towards the art studio earlier today. I'm sure she's just trying to clear her head," Caroline offered meekly near the front door.

Hayley nodded and gestured for them to follow her inside. Klaus felt a moment of relief at the sight of their home. It was quite beautiful actually; open and airy with planked wood floors and high beamed ceilings. They shuffled behind her towards the kitchen, his mind elsewhere as Caroline chattered about how jealous she was of the counter space.

It felt strange to be there even though there were pictures of him included in the home. There were things they had taken from New Orleans that he recognized like their antique silver serving bowl which now housed a toppling mound of pears and a painting he completed in the 1700's of the willow tree he had cut down for it was diseased. Klaus leaned against the marble top island in the middle of a kitchen designed for a chef and accepted the beer Hayley slid in front of him.

"Fresh out of the hard stuff, sorry."

"Do a lot of cooking?", he raised an eyebrow before sipping at the beer. It was hard to swallow. He would have to make a trip to the old Salvatore cellar later to pluck through what was left.

Hayley rolled her eyes and took the beer out of his hands. Caroline shot him a warning look complete with wide eyes and a mouthed, _stop_.

"I'll have the good stuff by tonight as I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow," she dumped the beer down the large sink, "and your daughter loved to cook."

"Ah," he said delightedly, "then perhaps I'll take her to study under Pierre when we return to New Orleans."

Hayley rolled her eyes, "I said loved. You'd be lucky to get her to study under Chef Boyardee these days."

"Whom?"

Caroline giggled and pushed off the barstool she had perched on, "I have to get back to the school. Headmistress duties await. If I hear anything new, I'll buzz you."

"Thanks Care," Hayley called as she closed the door behind her. Turning towards him, she stared at her feet for a while. Finally, she lifted her large eyes and sighed, "would you like to see her room?"

"Very much," he admitted.

Klaus trailed behind her once again, taking in the artwork on the ivory walls that were each autographed, _Hope M_. There were signs of her all over the house. He imagined her shedding the leather jacket and tossing it where it now laid across the couch or leafing through the beauty magazines that littered the coffee table. His heart ached for her. She was so close and still, he could not hold her and breathe in her scent that was uniquely his child's.

"It's a mess I'm sure, she was supposed to clean up before you got here…but…" Hayley swept out her arm, toeing open the door that had band stickers covering the front. He stepped inside and sucked in a breath. Klaus recognized the painting that once hung in her nursery, the teddy bear that sat in her crib now on her nightstand, the nursery chandelier hung in the corner over a reading nook.

He approached the bookshelf, eyeing the titles, smiling when he saw his first edition of Dracula propped against a framed photo of him holding her as a toddler in the days her mother was a banished wolf. _Girl Interrupted, The Bell Jar,_ and _The Catcher in the Rye_ were nestled between an old bronze adorned crystal inkwell from his study and the wooden horse she loved as a baby.

Klaus turned when he heard Hayley flop on Hope's sleigh bed. He could tell she was extremely bothered by Hope's behavior today but she had yet to offer any insight as to why. He moved a stack of sketchbooks from the green Papasan chair to sit and watch Hayley hug Hope's pillow to her chest.

"What are you not telling me?" he asked evenly.

She blinked a few times and said wryly, "Oh where to begin…"

"How about at the beginning?" he suggested with a gesture, propping his feet on the chest that used to be Rebekah's.

"Okay…things started off great. New life, new friends, new school. But she was sad. A lot."

He nodded slowly, "Of course. She lost her family."

"Right, but it was more than that. It's like that dark and depressed place she was thrust into when The Hollow took over her body never left her. Sometimes I'd find her in her closet instead of her bed at night. Just..staring."

Klaus swallowed against the tightness in his throat. Tears pricked at his eyes so he blinked and glanced towards her closet door. There were symbols written in black and dried flowers tied upside down to the handle. He recognized it as a protection spell. What evils she must face in her dreams as he ripped his way through towns, sleeping with a full belly of blood and bourbon. He would not allow her to suffer any longer. He would do whatever it took to damn Inadu to eternal hell.

Hayley continued, oblivious to his bubbling tears of rage and sorrow, "I got her into therapy with a woman Alaric knows. She does excellent work with all the kids who come through the school. She understands their special circumstances."

"What sort of credentials does this woman have?" Klaus sputtered. How dare she put his daughter into therapy without his consent. He could have compelled and sent someone in from the very top of the psychiatric field. He could have written more letters of fatherly advice or sent more gifts to brighten her days.

Hayley cut him a look, "She's done great work and is like two hundred years old so I'm sure you'll find her satisfactory."

"We shall see," he grumbled, motioning again for her to continue.

She proceeded to spin him a tale of how his daughter presented signs of depression, anxiety, and borderline personality disorder. All due to abandonment issues and childhood trauma. By the time Hayley was finished he was quaking in the rickety little chair and ready to murder every person to have ever merely looked at Hope in the wrong way.

"Look, she's not an easy kid. I love her with all my heart, but she has been like a stick of dynamite in every relationship she's ever made here. Like the one most recently…" Hayley trailed off, a nervousness exuding from her scent.

"Just get to it. What has she done that has made you and Caroline so nervous about talking about her to me?"

"She slept with a married man and got caught by his daughter. Her best friend," Hayley blurted out in one breath.

The air grew still. Perhaps they had both stopped breathing.

"His name?"

"No. You can't do that. This is exactly what we were afraid of."

"WE?" His heart was roaring in his ears.

"Yes, Caroline and I. We were afraid to tell you because you would go after him. You can't waltz in here and murder everyone who displeases you. I took care of it."

"Oh, did you?" he sneered, "and how did this occur in the first place, Hayley?!"

She spun her legs off the bed to sit up and face him. Her eyes had fire in them and he _dared_ her with his own to tell him he was wrong.

Her tone was low and menacing, "I did the best I could. She's not easy. You don't get to come here and point out all the things I did wrong when I did the very best I could." She was shaking now, tears building. He was too angry to care. Let her cry over his truths.

"Then I suppose it is a very good thing I'm back if this was the best you could accomplish on your own," he replied, leaning forward as he said it.

His head whipped to the side and a sting screamed under his cheek. The slap echoed in the otherwise silent room. This was usually where Elijah would step in. He would diffuse the situation and tell Klaus how wrong he was and remind him of what was best for Hope. What was best was that he not get into a blood brawl with Hayley all over her bedroom. Rebekah would remind him that being kind even if he felt he was right, was more important than stampeding through a situation and making everyone feel small.

"I apologize. Now tell me, how did you take care of it?"

Hayley was still frozen in her anger, taking her time to utter, "I throat punched him and kneed him in the dick."

"Delightful. Now, you keep telling me what I cannot walk in here and do. What is it I can do to help our daughter?"

"Be proud of her anyway. She likely ran off knowing you coming here meant hearing about the things she's done. I know she's not proud. She's just…hurting. She needs you."

He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, "I am sorry, Hayley. I understand young girls are a particularly difficult breed."

She looked away, "She's not a little girl anymore."

 

//

Hayley excused herself after a phone call took Klaus's attention and she slipped into her bedroom. She could hear Klaus on the phone with Freya, his boots clonking around on the porch outside. She willed her heart to stop hammering in its frantic and angry rhythm; a hard feat for a hybrid. She stared at her palm, no longer red with the memory of his face smacking beneath it. God that had felt good. Not good enough to tamp down the feeling of being ridiculed and shamed for the hardest goddamned job she's ever had to pull off; being a mother to a unique blend of witch, vampire, and werewolf. Not to mention, a Mikaelson. They were a tough breed; nearly impossible to please. Not that she was trying to please anyone anymore. Too many years wasted doing that shit.

She allowed herself two tears to fall before she brushed them away and tugged on a new pair of jeans, smoothing her simple cotton shirt with steady hands. Klaus's voice was rising and she jumped when something shattered outside her window. He likely broke the weird gnome Hope adopted from the Salvatore gardens when she was ten.

Sighing, Hayley flipped lights off as she exited her home, grabbing the keys to the little car she bought off of Caroline several years back when her twins grew bigger. Klaus was stooped over, collecting pieces of the gnome when Hayley noticed a car turning into her driveway.

"Was this ugly garden troll of importance?"

"Is that-" Hayley squinted.

Klaus tossed the pieces into a bucket Hope used for collecting walnuts. "Who is that?"

"Ada," she glanced knowingly at him, "the best friend. Or ex rather."

The raven haired girl Hayley had known since both girls were nine, barely put her car into park before stepping out. Call it intuition but Hayley felt like she came baring bad news. Her heart started to race all over again, this time in fear.

Ada fidgeted with her bracelets when she came to stand at the bottom of the porch, "I just wanted to let you know I saw Hope. Caroline put the word out that you are trying to find her?"

Hayley shot Klaus a look of alarm before asking, "Where?"

"I didn't get a good look but one second she was walking in front of Mystic Grill and the next she was getting into a car," Ada revealed softly. She looked terrified and kept sneaking looks at Klaus. He was boring holes with his intense glare.

"Who put her into the car. Describe the person," he demanded, stepping closer to the teen.

"Uh-I-I think she just came from the art studio. So maybe Mr. Brandon?"

"Who?" Klaus demanded incredulously.

Hayley clenched her jaw, then replied lowly, "the art teacher, Hope takes classes and rents a space there."

"Rents a space for what purpose…?" Klaus widened his eyes in question.

"Art. Obviously," Hayley widened her eyes in like.

"Actually…" Ada sighed. She looked defeated at this point. Hayley felt a pang of regret for not reaching out after Hope's affair with Ada's father was discovered. Ada had been practically a daughter. There were still pictures of her all over the house from their childhood sleepovers and birthday parties.

"What is it Ada, you are helping tremendously. Thank you," Hayley assured her with the calmest voice she could summon.

Ada shifted in her Doc Martins, letting Bruno sniff her fingers, "people are saying she and Mr. Brandon have been…hooking up."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Klaus practically yelled, tossing his hands in the air.

Ada grabbed the cross around her neck in horror. Hayley put a hand at her shoulder and thanked her as earnestly as she could. Grabbing Klaus's arm she led him towards her car.

"Thank you again and please tell Henry hello," Hayley called out of the window as they left the girl in a cloud of dust, Bruno sitting dutifully at her feet.

The car reeked of pot smoke and Hayley sighed heavily, cranking up the A.C. and turning down the radio. Hope's The Cure CD played softly in the background as Klaus stared ahead with a look she knew well. His jaw was set and eyes narrowed. His heartbeat thrummed steady but thick and forceful; he was out for blood.

"Look, it's just talk. We don't know anything yet. Mr. Brandon is married with kids. Hell, Hope has baby sat those kids. His wife is a witch and teacher at the school and always has such nice things to say about Hope," Hayley reasoned.

He let out a bark of laughter that made her flinch, "Oh. And these list of things stopped her before with what's her name's father? Henry is it?"

"I get it Klaus, but we can't burst in there and take the guy's head off because of hearsay."

"Oh, I'm not after his head."

They rode the rest of the way in silent thought, Klaus muttering things to himself and shaking his head here and there. Hayley had forgotten how insane he was. Sort of. It was hard to forget entirely. Hope hadn't been the same since she lost Ada, going so quiet and agreeable that it reminded Hayley too much of Klaus. The way he sucked inside of himself so much that everyone started missing even the roughest sides of his extremely varied personality-just to know he was in there somewhere.

Hope had immersed herself in art and witchcraft, disappearing into the woods with Bruno for long walks that Hayley was never invited on. Though, she followed her once, telling herself that it was a good parent move. Though, Hayley often felt like good parent moves were always the wrong moves with Hope. Her daughter was cold and secretive but sometimes warm and inviting, like when she was a little girl. It was a roll of the dice every single day and sometimes more than once in a day.

Klaus started to open the car door before she even cut the engine. The large barn's door was ajar and a gust of air brought the sharp scent of blood mixed with cedar and acrylic paint. They flashed inside, simultaneously looking for the source of blood. Inside was like a scene straight out of a horror film. Every student sat staring straight ahead, brushes poised over blank canvas.

"What the bloody fresh hell is this?" Klaus muttered, strolling down the aisles of students who didn't even flinch when he touched their shoulders.

"They've been compelled," Hayley murmured.

"This Mr. Brandon. Is he a vampire?"

"Human, his wife is the witch," she reminded him, eyes trailing towards the back where a ladder pointed up to the lofted area.

Klaus followed her up, the top of his head nudging her to move faster. She muttered something at him but climbed faster, reaching the top and glancing around. Mr. Brandon was most certainly not the culprit, as he lay dead on a pile of blood sodden quilts.

"This him?"

Hayley nodded, swallowing against nausea and panic, "we need to find Hope. I'll call Caroline and get her best witches on reversing the compulsion on as many of them as they can. You-" Hayley picked up Hope's discarded sweater, "track our daughter. I'll join you when I can."

Klaus took the sweater and breathed in deeply. He flashed away before she could wish him luck. Hayley decided he didn't need any, he would fix this. If there was anyone she could trust to fix this, it was him. And Elijah, if he were here and still himself. Her heart panged in that dull way it always did when bad things were brewing. She peered out of the window, watching the horses graze below as Caroline assured her over the phone that they would figure this out quickly.

While Hayley waited for Caroline and the witches to arrive, she took a look around the loft space. Candles sat near the bed of quilts and on the small table in the corner, stuck together in heaps of melted pearls of wax. An old tabletop record player sat open with The Smiths record still in it. Hayley remembered singing with Hope in the kitchen to that one just a month ago; the life I've had can make a good man bad.

Overalls draped upside down over an easel in the corner, paint splatters ruining the length of them. Empty wine bottles sat on the shelf and near the bed, an ashtray on the windowsill with a single lipstick printed cigarette butt smashed in the middle. None of this was a surprise but it was still a glaring reminder that Hayley really was failing miserably at this parenting thing.

What caught her eye next caused a gasp to catch in her throat. Right there on an easel was a half finished portrait. It was of Elijah, staring intently straight off the canvas. It was beautifully done and Hayley was impressed by the detail of her memory. What caused Hayley's heart to freeze were the blue of his eyes. Usually chocolate brown and warm, now cold and turquoise blue. A spatter of Mr. Brandon's blood across the painting would have been an artistic touch were it not the residue of his death.

With unsteady fingers, Hayley dialed Freya. Finding Elijah was now a top priority. The iciness of dread filled her when she realized finding Elijah likely meant finding Hope.

 

//

_"DAD!" Hope screamed from her mother's arms. Blue light swirled around them, siphoning the life from her every breath. She was so cold. Shaking as if unclothed in a winter's rain._

"Stop thrashing about," Uncle Elijah's voice tugged her from the familiar nightmare.

Hope's eyes shot open and panic seized her chest when she realized she could not move. Where was she? Her eyes drifted up her bare arm to where her wrist was bound to a bedpost. She yanked, only to realize her feet were bound as well. Hope started to breathe too fast, eyes darting all over the room. It was bare with only her Uncle standing at the foot of the bed with his cell phone out.

"What are you doing?" she whimpered. She didn't even recognize her own voice. Hope was freezing cold and her dress was missing. All that remained was the black bra and panty set Henry gifted her last year.

"Do you know who I am?" Hope started to cry. His memories couldn't be back. He would never harm her if he remembered who she was.

She heard the click of his phone, indicating he took a picture. When he stepped into the light, she noticed it was her phone he was holding.

"Please," She started to cry.

She felt like she was going to be sick, nausea rolled in her belly and her vision started to speckle.

"Rosine," Elijah called out, "put the girl back under, apparently she cannot handle herself in hostage situations."

Hope screamed when a woman blew something into her face. It burned like acid and smelled worse than rotten flesh.

The world went black once more.


	2. Sick

Ch. 2  
Song Rec: “Sick” by Chelsea Wolfe

 

In a way, she guessed she had known for months he was coming for her. The dreams were always so vague but dipped in memories of his warm voice, the plundering of piano keys, and his hands so big around her own. Hope never told anyone about that part of the nightmare. People already thought she was screwed up as it was, why add that to the list? Her therapist never took the dreams seriously, blaming them more on Hope’s own psyche. But it was more than that, it had always been The Hollow reaching into her darkest parts and beckoning her to just give in. The sex, drugs, alcohol, and elemental magic was just a way for her to run from Inadu’s calling. It numbed her. If Hope could figure that out and not her therapist…well what a useless two hours wasted weekly. Plus, the woman dressed like an idiot and always had lipstick on her teeth.

Hope tucked an errant tendril of dark honey hair out of her face, watching the witch whisper something in Uncle Elijah’s ear. Hope quickly glanced away when she noticed, trying to keep her eyes down as she strolled over.

“Eat,” the woman nodded towards the plate of baked chicken and salad.

Hope shook her head, “I’m not hungry.”

Elijah snapped his book shut from the recliner in the living room. He strode over and took a seat next to her. Too close. He smelled of whiskey and maybe a little like her, the woman. Rose? Rosanne? Something like that.

“You will need your strength. Eat,” he urged in his crisp tone. She remembered it like it was yesterday. Except now it just chilled her instead of amused her. She remembered her father doing funny impressions of him whenever he’d leave the room.

  
“I’m a vegetarian,” Hope explained, gesturing towards the chicken with a grimace. That part was the truth. It was a lie that she wasn’t hungry. She was starving as she’d only grabbed a pear from the counter this morning before heading out.

  
Elijah continued to stare at her, his expression unreadable. Hope looked fixedly back, wishing she knew what to do…what to say. Without his memories of family he was just Elijah, so who was that? And what did he want?

  
Tapping his fingers near her plate he said quietly, “you will eat the salad then. What is it, a moral issue or do you simply not like meat?”

  
She lowered her head. It was always so hard to explain to people. “I like the taste just fine but I have this part of me that-” she darted a look towards the woman who appeared completely bored if not irritated by the situation, “-that feels what the animal felt right before its death. So I just don’t eat them.”

  
“Rosine, perhaps another trip to the grocery store later?”

  
They both stared at her while she tried to take in her surroundings. A knife on the counter. Good. A phone attached to the wall in the kitchen-do people still have landlines these days? She counted two rooms on her way to the kitchen after she woke cold and alone. But at least her dress had been left for her. Red with little white flowers, it buttoned up and sat just right against her figure. Henry had loved it long before Mr. Johnathon Brandon ever had. Henry would know what to do right now. What was her mother thinking right now? Her father?

  
Rosine stood suddenly and exited the room, her tall dark legs as elegant as the way she moved. Hope immediately felt more at ease. There was something she did not like about that woman, no matter how graceful and pretty she may be.

  
“You must be highly sensitive to feel the energy of a long dead animal. What about the living? Do you feel things about them?” Elijah asked. He seemed genuinely interested, though it was hard to tell since everything he said was in the same tone. That and he was just really good at holding eye contact.

  
She shrugged, “yeah I guess. I’m less uncomfortable around you than her.”

  
Truth was, she was too sensitive around the living. Another reason for the drugs and-what was it her therapist coined it-avoidant behaviors? Hope knew when someone didn’t like her and when they did. She knew when her mother was sad even when she was laughing. Hope understood Henry’s love for her had been real and Mr. Brandon’s had not. She also knew that Ada hated her now and that she made most of the teachers at school uncomfortable. Worst of all, she felt everyone’s fear. It was hard being just a little girl and knowing even the adults got squirmy around her.

  
“Do you read auras, is that it?” Elijah prodded, standing to remove the chicken from her plate. She could still feel it there, it’s juices seeping into the pile of spinach and chopped peppers, but she decided not to complain.

  
“No, it’s not like that. I just know. I feel what they feel towards me but not towards other things.” She just realized he wasn’t wearing a suit. That’s what seemed so off from her memories. He still looked extremely put together, not a hair out of place and what appeared to be designer slacks and a button up shirt. No tie though, and no shiny shoes. Hope remembered she used to leave thumb prints all over them, designing flowers and smiley faces. He’d always wipe them off and she just stopped doing it altogether when he started making her wipe away her work with his soft embroidered handkerchief. She had pocketed one of them once and still had it among her things somewhere.

  
Elijah sat across from her this time, propping his elbows at the table and twisting at his daylight ring thoughtfully. Hope tried to read what he was feeling but found that she could barely open up to it. Come to think of it, she was having a hard time doing much of anything. Maybe it was that crap the woman blew into her face. It would make sense for them to weaken her abilities if they wanted the upper hand…if they truly understood who she was. Aunt Freya was convinced Hope had unheard of abilities and some of them she had barely tapped in to.

  
The woman returned with an armful of supplies. Hope recognized most of it save for a flower. She couldn’t remember that flower in any of the old grimoires she studied at school. Not even in Esther’s.

  
Elijah cleared his throat and explained, “Rosine is a witch from New Orleans and she’s hear to help me out of a little predicament. There appears to be an entity living inside me and you are the key to getting it out. If I do not do its bidding, it grows angry and causes me to do things I do not enjoy doing, you see.”

  
Hope nodded slowly, wishing she would have mastered some helpful magic like transfiguration or something. Or killed that asshole Kevin from school who called her a tri-breed slut and activated her werewolf gene so she could at least wolf out when the full moon peaked.

  
So this Rosine lady was a NOLA witch. Of course she was. Of course all of this linked back to the stench of swamps, death, and abandonment. She must be pretty damn good at witching if she could cloak Elijah all that time and now weaken a Mikaelson witch. Who knows what creole voodoo bullshit she was about to pull. Hope felt pissed off more than scared at this point. She hated not having an escape route. She hated feeling powerless.

  
“Do calm down dear, this is merely a linking spell. A strong one,” Elijah gestured towards the mixing bowls Rosine prepared.

  
“I’m not your dear,” Hope snapped, pushing her plate further away and crossing her arms over her chest.

  
Elijah peered at her before replying, “you remind me so much of someone.”

  
“Yeah?” Hope leaned forward and narrowed her eyes, “probably of my mother. The love of your life? Same height, same eyes, same affinity for assholes?”  
He let out a chuckle and it caused her heart to pang in longing. It was such a familiar sound and she hadn’t heard it since she was a small girl. It made her think of hot chocolate in mugs while a fire crackled and pages of books turned while she colored on a soft rug. She missed that sense of safety and belonging.

  
“That is another issue. You see Miss Mikaelson, this thing inside me has caused me to do something very regretful to the woman I love. She is in Paris now, drowning repeatedly in the bottom of the Seine. Rosine has assured me that my love will be returned to me as soon as the entity is made whole again.”  
Hope was strong enough to feel that Rosine was lying. This love of Uncle Elijah’s was already dead. Wasn’t he like a billion years old? Shouldn’t he know when he’s being played?

  
“She’s lying to you,” Hope told him firmly, shooting Rosine her deadliest look. It usually shook people to their core, her mother included.

  
He didn’t have time to react, but Hope was sure she saw a flicker of something cross his otherwise emotionless face before Rosine sliced a dagger down Hope’s forearm. Hope hissed in pain, recoiling immediately. The bowl bubbled and popped when the tip of the dagger stirred its contents with her blood. Rosine then tipped the bowl and drank it, her eyes rolling back so that the whites showed. After a few minutes of this freaky shit and the dark skinned beauty thrust her wrist out below Elijah’s mouth. Hope’s eyes widened as she watched his eyes turn veiny black and his fangs slide gracefully out.

  
“Now her,” Rosine instructed, ending his feed with a gentle tug of her wrist.

  
Hope sat frozen in shock as Elijah approached and plucked her arm from her side, bringing her pulsing wrist to his blood stained mouth. It only hurt for a moment, he was good at this. The crackle of saliva and blood from his swollen lips caused an involuntary shiver to shoot down her spine. She grew dizzier at each suckle.

  
“Enough,” Rosine stated.

  
Elijah pulled away and swiped at his mouth with a table napkin, his eyes slowly turning back to normal. Hope didn’t realize she was shaking or healing incredibly slow, until she felt the blood from her forearm and wrist coat her fingertips and make a sick dripping sound against the linoleum.

  
“There, now we are linked. If they cause our bodies harm, the same will come to Hope. I think it is time for another attempt at communication. Take her to the room,” Rosine instructed.

  
“When will you return?” Elijah asked, tugging Hope to her feet by the elbow.

  
“After I’m sure they understand,” was all she said, not bothering to glance over her shoulder as she exited the house.

 

//

 

Klaus got the call from Caroline moments after he lost Hope’s scent in the middle of town. If Hayley was in poor shape then he could not expect to be any less affected by what was found out. Caroline would not explain over the phone. Even if she had, it would not have prepared him for the sight of Hayley kneeling over a toilet vomiting through her tears.

  
As gently as he could, he knelt beside her, gathering her shortened hair from her damp cheeks.

  
He whispered achingly, “Little Wolf…”

  
“E…Eli-” she could not even form his name. He grabbed a towel from the counter and began dabbing the corners of her mouth. She launched herself into his arms, holding so tightly he felt her ribs against his own.

  
“Rebekah and Freya are on their way. We will find her Hayley, I swear it.”

  
“You haven’t seen…” Hayley whispered. He froze his breathing.

  
She pushed away and reached behind him, thrusting her phone into his hand. He glanced down and had to blink several times, as if doing so would change the image glowing from the screen. For a moment it looked like Hayley laying there. But it was the face that caused an unexplainable jolt of pain and grief through his body. Hope looked terrified, her arms and legs bound separately to each bedpost.

  
“Will he touch her?” Hayley asked, her voice so hoarse. “Klaus, who is Elijah without his memories of family?”

  
He didn’t realize tears were leaking out of his widened eyes until her fingers were swiping at his face and she cradled him by the jaw with both hands. Hayley was looking into his eyes with such a desperation.

  
“I need my sister, where is my sister?”, he croaked.

  
Her face crumpled, “Klaus please…tell me he won’t touch her. Tell me he’s the very best of all of you. He wouldn’t…”

  
He had no answers for her. Caroline was looking at him over Hayley's shoulder. He didn’t even remember her coming in. She would look after Hayley. Klaus stood shakily before flashing away. He would just have to look harder. Track longer. He would burn the town to the ground and explore every last corner of this wretched place until he found their daughter.

 

  
He made it all the way back to Mystic Grill, the last place Hope was seen, before a woman caught his attention. She stared at him with a quirked eyebrow. He knew an old witch when he saw one.

  
Approaching her slowly he barked, “And who might you be?”

  
“Do you wish to see your daughter alive?”

  
He flashed over, squeezing her thin neck with one tight grasp. It took everything he had not to pop her head straight off her shoulders. He needed more information unfortunately. Still, it was nice to watch her struggle.

  
She tried to garble out some words, finally forming the word, “linked.”

  
Knowing what that likely meant, he released her, dread filling his gut. 

  
“What you do to me or Elijah you do to your daughter. Bring the rest of Inadu in exchange for Hope. Simple as that.”

  
“How long do I have?”

  
“As long as it takes, but I imagine by the look on your face, you know what will continue to happen to Hope the longer Inadu is left waiting.”

  
“Where will I find you once I have it?”

  
She smiled a vividly white smile, “We will choose a location for the exchange.”

//

Elijah allowed Hope to take a bath in the old nineties decorated bathroom. The shower was broken so Hope had to sit in a tub full of water that was a swirl of cloudy pink from her wounds that finally healed. It was disgusting but warm, and it gave her time to think. Gripping the sides of the tub, Hope squeezed her eyes shut. She had to think harder. She had to think like a Mikaelson. What would her father want her to do? Her mother? Aunt Freya.

  
Hope’s eyes popped open. It was incredible how much fear and anxiety blanketed memory and logic. The memory of Aunt Freya’s special spell played out in high speed. There was a way she could contact Aunt Freya. All she needed was a hallucinogen and privacy to sleep. Even weed would do. Aunt Freya could do most the work, all Hope needed to be was open. That was hard here but still doable. Rosine was powerful but not powerful enough to completely snuff her magic out.

Out of nowhere, there was a sudden pain in her neck. Hope gasped for breath, clawing wildly around. Water splashed out of the tub to the tile as she struggled for air. The door splintered open with a loud crack and there he was pulling her out of the tub. Her eyes met Elijah’s in horror, she couldn’t breathe. Not at all. He looked pensive if not mildly concerned.

  
“I suppose she is making sure they understand,” he mused more to himself than her. Still, he comforted her with a soothing hand to her back.  
And just like that, the squeeze at her throat let up and she loudly sucked in gulps of air, falling slack and exhausted against Elijah’s side. He held her up with an arm tucked around and lifted, carrying her like a little girl to the back room.

  
“I apologize but at times, I do have little control over what happens here. It is not my wish to see you harmed. You seem like a lovely girl.” Still so polite. It was like he didn’t even notice she was sopping wet and naked. Or maybe he did.

  
He pulled out her phone and snapped another picture. She was too stunned to move and continued laying there long after he left the room, locking it from the outside. Pulling her knees to her chin, she started to cry. This was starting to get too real. Hope hadn’t felt this sort of fear since the night her father left her nearly a decade ago.

//

 

Caroline sent Hayley back home after her girls concocted a relaxing elixir to take her anxieties down several notches.  
“It’s important you get some rest and replenish all that blood you puked back up,” she had cooed in that sweet voice Hayley was sure must tug at Klaus’s heartstrings.

  
Her body would need to be ready for the fight. With Freya and Rebekah in route, Hayley took comfort in knowing the family would be working together in not only rescuing Hope but handling the way Klaus was likely reacting and would react. His face, god she’d never seen him look like that. Pitiful and heartbroken? That didn’t even describe it. It told her what she needed to know, though. Elijah was the monster underneath the suit and familial loyalty. He was the person she had seen behind the red door years ago. He was evil.

  
Hayley practically melted into her bed the moment she was alone. The potion was nice, but it didn’t do much for the racing thoughts. That was good though, she wanted to be able to think. To plan. To visualize hurting Elijah in slow and tortuous ways. She heard Klaus enter the house right when she was getting into a fantasy of stabbing Elijah’s eyes with his tie clips.

  
“What’s this on the counter?” Klaus called from the kitchen.

  
Hayley rolled to her back, tossing an arm behind her head, “Drink it, I swear it helps. It’s from Jo and Lizzie.”

  
Klaus showed up in her doorway, knocking the elixir back like a shot. He made a face and busied himself with shedding his jacket and shoes.

  
“Can I-…” he shifted several times on his feet, before lifting his eyes to meet hers, “Can I hold you?”

  
She felt herself nodding before she really even processed his words. The bed dipped under his weight and she watched him lay aside the length of her. It wasn't the strangest thing she'd ever done with a Mikaelson and she understood the need to be close right now. It was a wolf thing.

  
Hayley was about to flip to her side when he settled her still, his warm hand resting on her belly. She wasn’t dense, she knew this was about Hope. The closest he could get to holding his daughter tonight was holding the body that carried her for nine months. If it offered them both comfort then there was no need to overthink things. Plus, this elixir was great at taking away any apprehension.

  
“I spoke with the witch working with Elijah,” he swallowed hard, “they are linked to Hope.” She had already heard the information from Caroline but she let him tell her again. Hayley loved his accent. She never told him that. He had a way with forming his words that went further than the accent, something about his mouth. Hope’s mouth was shaped like his. She hadn’t realized until just now.

  
She watched his lips move, “What was it like being pregnant?”

  
“It was like…disgusting in so many ways but also…”, she bit her lip and accidentally bumped noses with his in her glance, “really beautiful. I felt really in love the whole time, even when I looked like a whale.”

  
“I like that about you Hayley,” he stated.

  
“What…exactly?”

  
“That you give your opinion when asked a question instead of answering the question.”

  
“Are you high?”

  
“I am a little. Aren’t you? I meant, I wanted to know the facts and you gave me opinions.”

  
“Okay…so you want to know the clinical stuff like my feet felt like stuffed sausages and every time I started to fall asleep she would push her foot into my ribs? Or that the constipation felt like I was carrying rocks instead of a baby?”

  
He didn’t miss a beat, “yes, things like that. I regret not being closer during that time. It all felt so…”

  
“Awkward as hell?”

  
“Precisely that.”

  
“Not to mention your extreme paranoia surrounding my intentions,” she reminded him.

  
Klaus ran the tip of his nose along her jawline. It was cold and he smelled like the outdoors and sweat. She tried not to smile. Was he really doing this. Now?

“What are you doing?”, she sighed.

  
“That stuff you made me drink put me in a really good mood. This is me in a good mood. You just don’t get to see that because you are always putting me in bad moods.”

  
“Baby Momma duties. I take my responsibilities very seriously.”

  
“Yes, you absolutely do,” he ran a thumb around her navel, “you are the image of self discipline Hayley Marshall.” Her stomach twitched and a warmth spread. No, he was not doing this to her. She would not allow some stupid potion to cause the one thing she said she would never do. Because it was the potion. Just today she slapped the hell out of him for being a complete dick. Did he have to look at her like that? What was he thinking? What was she thinking?

  
Change the subject, keep talking. “You know what I like about you?”

  
“What’s that?” he half smiled.

  
“That you don’t mind telling someone when they are wrong or explaining something they obviously don’t get. It’s like you just don’t care if it makes them uncomfortable. But you aren’t cruel about it. Not always. I like it when you’re not.”

  
“No one has ever said that before.” He seemed truly perplexed.

  
She shrugged and thumped him on the ear, “Baby momma duties.” Then she rolled over and faced the wall. Hayley smiled when he thumped her ear back.  
“I cannot sleep but I would like to lie here with you while you do. Is that alright?”

  
Hayley reached back to find his hand. She nodded and squeezed his warm fingers twice before returning her palm beneath her cheek. It wasn’t hard to fall asleep with his steady breathing pushing his chest rhythmically against her back.

 

//

 

“Oh my…”

  
Klaus’s eye’s popped open to find Rebekah peering down from the side of the bed with a smirk on her painted lips. She looked impeccable even after an intense exorcism.

“What do we have here…” she tittered as Hayley stirred and jolted awake.

  
“Leave them be sister, we have a lot to cover. Coffee’s on,” Freya’s voice carried from the hallway.

  
Klaus sat up and stretched noisily as Hayley, still dressed in her pajama shorts and t-shirt, shuffled out of the room, looking completely dazed. He hadn’t thought he would sleep at all, but what could he say? He was as much a wolf as he was a vampire, he enjoyed a good cuddle with his pack members.  
He made a beeline for the bathroom, his bladder fuller than Elijah’s ego after a piano performance in the 1600’s. Closing the door behind him, Klaus noticed more signs of Hope's life here. Magazines sat with crinkled pages as if they'd been read repeatedly while she soaked in a bath; the cap was off of her toothpaste and it lay on the floor near a pile of discarded clothes; lipstick kiss prints were left on the mirror as if she used her reflection to blot, and there were framed pictures of that girl Ada with her arms around Hope hanging crooked over the toilet.

  
The better mood he woke up in aside Hayley fizzled away. Hope was suffering at the hands of the one person he ached to reach out to in such a dismal time. He both hated and wanted Elijah here to help.

 

  
The kitchen was too bright. This whole house was too bright. Their voices were too loud as he listened from the other end of the kitchen-which was pretty damn far away considering how overly large this room was.

  
“Caroline called. She thinks we should can the dagger idea considering Hope is linked to Elijah,” Hayley filled him in.

  
Freya interjected lightly, her arms folded tightly across her small frame, “She can heal and he would only need to be daggered long enough for Inadu to be drawn into the stone.”

  
“How sure is Ric that this stone can hold a piece of Inadu anyway?” Hayley asked, approaching Klaus with mug of coffee.

  
“Thank you, love,” he murmured. After a gulp he stated, “And we can the dagger idea. Caroline is right and it is not worth the risk. We focus on finding her and negotiations with Marcellus for the dark object containing The Hollow.”

  
Klaus fixed his gaze pointedly at Rebekah.

  
“I tried! I tried everything I could, Nik. I fought, yelled, cried. I even pulled the ‘If you really loved me, you would do this for my family’. Of course he got angry and went on about how it’s always been my family and not his.”

  
“Marcellus is refusing to help my daughter?”

  
“Can you really blame him? Inadu wants him gone. He would be handing over his own death.”

  
“That’s not what bothers him and you know it. It’s that damned city. MY city. He loves it more than family. He loves it more than you, sister.”

  
“Then what’s our move?” Hayley asked, pouring another cup of coffee. By her coloring, what she really needed was a good feed.

  
Klaus considered the women staring at him, unblinking and expectant. Hayley would go to any lengths, of that he was sure. As would Freya. It was his dear little sister with the love hungry heart that was the wild card. She likely believed in that bleeding heart of hers that Elijah was not capable of harming Hope, even without his memories. Perhaps she needed to see the pictures herself. Perhaps she needed to look at the way his daughter lay in a bed bound and scared for her life at the hands of their brother.

  
“Rebekah,” he quipped, “what do you suggest our move should be?”

  
She frowned and glanced towards the others. “Well, I think we should create a diversion and retrieve the box ourselves.”

  
Klaus pushed, “He will be expecting that. What will he not be expecting?” He walked to the kitchen window and tore into a blood bag with his fangs. He loved the first feed in the morning, it was like a hit of something truly delightful. It brought out the vampire side that buzzed intensely inside the bones.

  
“What do we do about Inadu if we just hand her over for Hope anyway? Then the witch bitch is back and we have to fight her all over again,” Rebekah pointed out, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

  
Hayley piped up, “Marcel will move The Hollow somewhere because he knows it’s wanted. Where would he move it to?”

  
Klaus slid the rest of the bag to Hayley, “I’m sure Rebekah has some ideas. We’ll allow her a short time to think on that.” He turned to Freya who stood poised and solemn by the china cabinet. He recognized the set and was happy to see it in Hope’s possession as they were once a queen’s. He continued, “you have the floor Freya.”

  
She cleared her throat and started, “I think our only chance to win this one is to get Elijah to remember. Hope would need to weaken him enough to undo Marcel’s compulsion.”

  
“How would she even know how to do that? How do we even know how much control he has when Inadu pushes him?” Hayley asked.

  
Freya wet her lips and took a breath, “I have a way to communicate with Hope. We just need to get something to her.”

  
Both he and Hayley jolted at the news, both asking a dozen questions at once. Freya waited patiently before continuing, “There’s something unique about Hope. I don’t know how much you have noticed through the years, Hayley, but she has a connection with animals and plants, dead or alive. Nature is something she can manipulate at times and that she's very sensitive to.”

  
Klaus thought of when he met Hope as a little girl instead of the toddler he still pictured her as despite the passage of time. She had thoughts and feelings she articulated to him, and had even shared her ability to heal the wounded creatures and plants around her. It was strong magic to be able to do such things, let alone as just a child. The power scared him if he were honest, but there was a part of him that knew she would not abuse the power as he likely would. She was good and pure at her core, he didn’t care about all the stories of her acting out. What else was there to do in this town, she was a Mikaelson for heaven’s sake. It was in her nature to spice up life a touch. If her worst was falling for men she shouldn’t, then this behavior could be remedied with a stable life as heir to his city. He would praise her and build her up to be what she was meant to be.

  
Yet, the guilt shattered him. The realization that his sacrifices took away threats on her life but not threats to her well being. He sucked in a sharp breath and turned away once again to stare out the window.

  
Freya broke the silence, “she’ll feel her dog coming. We can get her what she needs to access the realm of communication I created in case of emergencies like this.”

  
Hayley nodded enthusiastically, her eyes lighting up, “why the hell didn't I think of that before. Bruno has tracked Hope before. He's old but he's got a nose on him and he sure does love Hope.”

  
Bruno was licking a spot on his paw out in the yard, damp jowls brushing against the dirt and collecting on his nose. Perhaps the old farm dog would be of some use after all.

  
“What are we waiting for?” he asked, clasping his hands behind his back.

 

//

 

Elijah placed her dress on the bed where she had pulled the covers to her chin and shivered for an hour. It was damn cold in this house. Where were the owners? She probably didn’t want to know what happened to them. The wind rattled tree limbs against the house, as if begging her to come outside. It had been a while since she’d had fresh air and Hope craved the earth beneath her feet.

  
Pulling on the dress, she asked, “may I have some time outside? I just need some air.”

  
He turned back around in the doorway, hand poised over the handle, “you may. But just so we are clear, Rosine placed a barrier spell. It keeps you in sight. It would be most painful for you to run into it.”

  
“Solid advice. Thanks.”

  
Hope was right about the wind. It had something to say, she could feel it. An intention was set and she was ready to receive it, whatever it was. She trusted the signs. Stepping into the overgrown yard in her bare feet, she breathed in deeply and raised her chin to the moon. It was like she was recharging, the energy the most pleasant tingle under her skin.

  
A rustle brought her attention towards the thickest part of the woods. Squinting, Hope thought she saw movement just past the thick tangle of wisteria covered trees. She opened herself, using the moon’s charge and felt an animal approaching. She knew that animal.

  
“Bruno?” she asked excitedly. The steady thump of his wagging tail sounded out against hanging vines and leaves. He bounded towards her as soon as their eyes connected. Hope hadn’t felt so happy in a while. She wrapped her arms around the big wrinkly old dog, her knees digging into the moist earth. She scratched his neck, giggling softly as his wet nose got tangled in her curls.

  
“What’s this?” she whispered, feeling a bulge attached to his collar.

  
“Hope?” Uncle Elijah called from the front door.

  
She stood quickly, unable to release the small pouch secured with a red ribbon. Hope thought she heard another rustle just past the thicket but she ignored it, instead focusing on Elijah.

  
“My dog found me,” she admitted, gesturing behind her.

  
His eyebrows raised and he peered around her. “Hm, so he has.”

  
The wind picked up again and she tried to grab onto it with her inner magic, opening up and pulling. A bolt of lightning lit up the sky and Bruno whimpered high pitched before cowering between her legs. That felt good as hell. She itched to expel all this energy and play with the sky’s force just a little longer. There were more important things to focus on.

  
“Can he stay for the night? He’ll go back home when he gets bored. He must have smelled me,” she explained over the wind and impending storm she had called on.

  
Elijah nodded, gesturing for them to enter. “You’ll keep him in your room, I do not think Rosine would appreciate our new guest.”

  
Hope felt like that was too easy, but she could not pass up the opportunity either way. She thanked him and bid him a goodnight, ushering Bruno back into her dull room at the end of the hall. His feet tracked dirt and pine needles over the matted taupe carpet, his long tail thwacking against her door frame as he entered before her. As soon as she heard Elijah lock her door, Hope wasted no time in untying the pouch. In it was a bundle of herbs she knew she was supposed to ingest along with a folded piece of parchment.

  
Hope recognized the elegant scrawl as her father’s. Stay strong sweetheart. That was it. It was still enough to cause an ache in her heart. Had he followed Bruno here? Was that who she heard? It didn’t matter, she had to hurry.

  
Bruno hopped onto her bed, leaving her a little space to crawl in beside him. She took a pinch from each sprig and swallowed them quickly. It was best not to chew. Tasted like shit. She hid the pouch under her mattress, promising herself she would find a better hiding place tomorrow. Bruno smelled horrible but Hope buried her face in his neck and wrapped her arms around his big old body. Sleep would come easy now.

  
It did and it didn’t. The herbs worked fast, yanking her into unsteady dreams. She tried to remember how to focus on finding Freya in the crazy haze of echoing hallways and jumbled memories. When she was younger, it had always reminded her of the fun houses at the annual fair. She hated them. Everything was distorted and laughing. Maybe that was fun to people who didn’t deal with demons who laughed as they confused their way through dreams almost nightly.

  
“In here, Hope,” Aunt Freya’s voice soothed. Just like that, all the other voices disappeared and she was thrust into a familiar room. The courtyard from their home in New Orleans. The fountain trickled and splashed, she could even smell the musty old stone walls, stamped with their family crest.

  
Aunt Freya was seated on the furniture and she was not alone.

  
“Uncle Elijah?” Hope asked, eyes wide in panic.

  
His suit was neatly buttoned over a maroon tie, adorned with his fleur-de-lis pin. His hair familiarly placed and his back straight. His eyes were so sad.  
“My god…” he whispered. Hope shot a look of alarm towards Freya. Did this mean he knew what she was doing? Would Inadu punish her? Did he remember her?

Freya stood and said softly, approaching her with silent steps, “it seems the linking spell linked the compelled state of Elijah’s mind to yours. He remembers us here. Just not out there.”

“He can’t see what’s happening when we’re awake?”

Uncle Elijah cleared his throat and stood slowly. He was staring at her with tears brimming.  
“You look so…grown up,” he says.

She allowed him a moment to take in her changed appearance. Hope supposed it would be strange to in one breath have people and time be one way and the next wake to find them grown and changed. It had to be as disorienting as a fun house.

“People say I look just like mom,” Hope suggested nervously. What was she supposed to talk about with him? How great he was at his photography skills? Did he remember what the Elijah out there had been doing? He never answered that. Maybe he didn’t want to yet.

Elijah tentatively reached out to touch her hair, his fingers trembling.  
“You do, very much so. But I see a lot of your father too. I always imagined you turning out a redhead but there’s his hair looking quite lovely on you.”

“It changed as I got older,” Hope stated lamely. This all felt so surreal. Hope had always imagined she would reunite with her father well before she ever saw her uncle again.

  
“So it did,” he agreed as he dropped his hand.

  
“We need to talk,” Freya announced, cutting through their awkward reunion.

  
Elijah took a step back, mumbling, “yes, of course.”

  
“Only, I’m not comfortable with doing so until we know if the Elijah out there will remember what happened with the Elijah in here. We cannot have Inadu knowing what our plans are,” Freya added, her voice moving up and down like a sad song. Hope had always loved to listen to her explain things as a kid. She was a hard ass but Hope admired everything about her and she never felt anything negative when she opened up and felt what Freya was feeling towards her. It was always a sense of duty and love. Always.

  
“Are my parents with you? Are they okay?” Hope asked tentatively.

  
Freya snuck a look towards Elijah before answering, “I think they are doing better than they were now that there’s a way to speak with you. They wanted me to make sure he hasn’t hurt you. They wanted to understand the photos.”

  
“Photos?” Uncle Elijah perked in concern. Hope felt a heat rise to her face, creeping up her neck like the ivy growing up the walls. Was she really blushing in a dream realm?

Freya sighed heavily and hung her head, “He’s sent two pictures now. One of Hope tied up and another with much less clothing.”

Hope cut in quickly, “he hasn’t touched me and really the last photo he had just helped me out of the bath. Someone was choking the witch and I choked too.”

“What is happening?” Uncle Elijah demanded, his shiny shoes scuffing against the stone floor as he approached Freya.

 

A painful icy stab and Hope was yanked into a wakefulness. Rosine was hovering over her, malice in her gaze.

“What did you do?” the witch seethed.

“N-Nothing.”

Bruno lifted his head momentarily a growl erupting deep in his throat. Elijah entered the room with a smear of blood at his brow.

  
“One moment I was walking towards the living space and the next I was waking up on the floor. What did you do, girl?”

  
So he didn’t remember. That meant next time they could devise a plan. Next time she could send a message to her parents.

  
Rosine spun around to point a finger down the hall, “I don’t like this. It’s time to put a new sense of urgency on things. Take her to your room. You know what to do.”

  
His eyes seemed vacant when they settled on her horrified expression. She felt a hatred from him that hadn’t been there before. She felt Inadu.


	3. Desire

**Ch. 3**

**Song rec: "Desire" by Meg Myers**

**{PM for trigger warnings}**

//

Hayley walked Rebekah to the rental car and hugged her close. It was good having her here and she hated that they were just sending the younger sister straight back to New Orleans.

"I figured this would be a short stay, do keep me informed on how my niece is doing," Rebekah said, straightening Hayley's necklace for her.

"Remind Marcel that Hope is still a kid. She's still a New Orleans kid and she's his sister," Hayley mumbled against emotions. Rebekah nodded and pulled her in for another hug. Hayley had grown close to all of the Mikaelsons through the years and she knew the pecking order. She knew who would choose who if it came down to it, even if Klaus chose to ignore the historical facts.

Hayley glanced back towards the house where Klaus was staring gloomily towards them from the kitchen window. He was loyal to his family's survival even if his methods had been borderline psychotic. Okay. He could be full on psychotic from the stories she has heard and the actual instances she has witnessed and, at times, been subjected to. Rebekah was the favorite sibling and Hayley had always thought it was because he had weird mommy issues. Blondes were his thing; the sweeter and crazier the better. Elijah told her it was because Rebekah did what none of the other siblings ever had it in them to do: stand up to Mikael during his abusive behavior towards Klaus. Time after time, year after year, Rebekah chose Klaus no matter how horribly he tried to hold on to her. Klaus killing her lovers and stuffing her in boxes when he began to lose control of her; it was the stuff of horror movies.

Rebekah got into the car and cranked the engine, rolling down the window to say, "Please remember I love all of my brothers. Especially Nik. But,if there's a way to do this without harming Elijah…"

Hayley nodded. Watching the car disappear in a cloud of dust and distance, she headed slowly back inside. Rebekah was the favorite but Elijah was Klaus's weak spot. Elijah was his closest friend growing up and because Elijah never stood up to Mikael in the way Rebekah had, he had spent the rest of their long lives trying to make up for that. His methods usually included being the voice of reason as if captain of Klaus's moral compass, teaming up with Rebekah when necessary. Hayley often thought Elijah would love Rebekah the most too if it weren't for the guilt of it all. She used to love watching the way he laughed and smiled when Rebekah was in town. Nobody could make Elijah smile like her.

Freya was on the phone with Keelin and gathering her things while Klaus trailed after Hayley to her bedroom.

"She has betrayed me before. She and Marcel…" he said, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"This is for Hope, she wouldn't," Hayley reminded him. She opened her drawers to grab a change of clothes, continuing, "and it's for Elijah. I don't see her choosing romance over her family in circumstances like these."

He said nothing, exiting the room without glancing back. Hayley took the opportunity to change out of her pajamas and tug on her dark jeans and the first shirt she could find. Maybe her words angered him, she could never tell. But he had to know she was right. She felt it in her bones that everyone would do whatever it took to rescue Hope and end Inadu for good. If they could get Elijah's piece of her into the dark object then they could destroy her. Alaric Saltzman had found a way and Marcel had been eager as hell to jump on it. Something always went wrong, nothing came easy in this family or in this supernatural world. Now it seemed impossible to convince Marcel the plan was to hand over all the hard work they'd done in trapping Inadu in the magical box, some dark object Kol had made in Ireland years back.

Hayley grabbed her things and met the siblings in the car where Klaus sat impatiently gripping the steering wheel. She forgot he knew the way. That he knew the Salvatores and their old boarding house long before Stefan passed away and Damon became human to leave this supernatural world behind. There was a whole story there that Hayley didn't know much about, just that Stefan was once like a brother to Klaus, taking Elijah's place in the twenties. It was when Stefan became Rebekah's lover that things went sour…naturally. Weirder, was that Caroline ended up marrying the man. It was like one huge long running incestuous-but not-cycle.

Caroline greeted them from the side entrance, dressed impeccably in her crimson ceremony dress. Hayley felt a twinge of sadness. She should be getting Hope ready for graduation today. She should be preparing some of the wolf kids, the ones that didn't have family showing up.

"Lizzie is in the magic wing, just follow the signs. I'm swamped but I'll check in later," Caroline said breathlessly, holding the door open for them to enter. "And please," she sighed, grabbing Klaus by both hands, "don't forget that today there are going to be a lot of kids here. Along with parents who really appreciate this being a safe space."

"You have nothing to worry about," Klaus assured her with a vacant smile and a slip of his hands out from hers. Hayley tossed Caroline an I got this look before following Freya and Klaus towards the magic wing. The magic Freya would be performing today was basic and small compared to the destruction she was capable of, but Hayley knew it wasn't that that Caroline was concerned about. It was how Klaus would react if communications with Hope proved to be rage provoking.

The long and narrow hallway leading to the last room was dimly lit with old lighting that flickered and hummed. A long and faded maroon runner laid over the dark worn wood, padding their determined footsteps. Lizzie was there with her long ash blonde hair and large eyes. She looked like she was meeting a bunch of celebrities with the way she introduced herself to Klaus and Freya, gushing for a moment over how much she has learned from Freya's notes.

"I'm glad to have helped you and the other student witches. I see you've brought some organization in here, it looks great," Freya said warmly.

Lizzie glanced around, nodding enthusiastically. Hayley remembered the afternoons she would poke her head in and watch Hope help the Saltzman twins organize the herbs and plants that sat on a long shelving system under lighting along the right side of the room. To the left were the spell books, potion mixing bowls, and other supplies accumulated. That left plenty of room in the center for spell circles and other such things that Hayley never quite caught on to. In a way, she was grateful that all she had to deal with was wolf business, it was a lot less complicated. Hope had always seemed to just take to it, all the uses for plants, herbs and incantations stored to her memory like she had been born with them already in there. Hell, maybe she had.

Freya walked straight over to an alter that Lizzie had prepared.

"Very well done," Freya praised again, nodding at the potion already bubbling.

Lizzie smiled, "I made it strong enough to keep you in the dream realm into tomorrow without another dose. I figured you'd want some wiggle room in case Hope can't communicate but in short spurts."

Klaus let out a short sigh from the corner of the room where he stood peering at a cabinet of objects Hayley knew the kids weren't allowed to mess with. Except for Hope and the twins because they were properly trained. As if sensing his irritation at the pace, Freya wiggled her hands over the potion and said, "shall we begin?"

//

Hours passed and Hayley had excused herself to tend to her wolf cubs. Klaus took to poking around, seeing where all the money he donated went to. They had done a glorious job at turning the boarding house into a school, only leaving one of the bedrooms as it was before.

"You'd be proud of her, old pal," Klaus sighed at a picture of Stefan Salvatore. Klaus took another swig of bourbon that he'd found tucked behind a line of journals. Klaus had read many of them before out of sheer boredom in the past, but he knew not to tread on his memory now. Not with him gone. Caroline was a love they both shared just as Rebekah had been in a way. Now she had this school and her twins that weren't biologically hers but you'd never know it. She had done well for herself in spite of the losses she had endured through the years. He admired that greatly and knew his deceased friend had too. They appreciated the good and the pure because there was little left of it in themselves. That's what Camille had alluded to at one point anyway.

"I have something better than that in my office," a voice called from the doorway. Klaus turned and took in the sight of Alaric Saltzman, headmaster and father of the twins. He had aged just slightly since Klaus last dealt with him at the beginning of this whole Inadu mess.

Klaus took another swig of the bourbon before returning it with a scraping sound of glass across wood shelving. He followed Alaric down the stairs and into his office. It was decorated in such a fashion that Klaus wondered if the man slept anywhere but in here. Stacks of papers littered corners of the room along with waste bins full of half eaten take out. The best part was the liquor cabinet smartly hidden inside of a grandfather clock. It didn't seem to work and the time read five o'clock.

"Hope thought that was funny," Alaric offered, nodding towards the clock face, "She turned it there, so it was always five o'clock here. You know, to ease the knowledge of my day drinking. And sometimes morning."

Klaus said nothing. It seemed to make the man uneasy because he kept on talking as if Klaus did not understand the punchline.

"She said if it's always five o'clock somewhere, then that place was here."

"Ah," Klaus finally said, noticing the scotch.

"Fine choice," Alaric said, pouring them both a glass. "Take a seat," he gestured.

After a while, Klaus began to wonder what it was the man was internally struggling with. Perhaps he wanted to offer some sort of guidance or comfort. It was not of interest to Klaus, but a part of him desired a closeness to Hope, even if it came in the form of lame stories.

"So…" Alaric sighed, taking another sip, "Caroline thought it was a good idea that I treat you like any other parent and debrief you on Hope's progress here at the school." He reached into his desk and pulled out a folder. A very thick folder.

"Oh my…" Klaus murmured with his lips against his glass.

"A lot of this is achievement reports, don't let the size scare you. She was-is…a very good student. Always looking out for the younger kids and rarely missed class. Though, I'd blame that primarily on Hayley's insistence. Hope once mentioned everyone should be far more terrified of her mother than her Mikaelson namesakes."

"I'm sensing a but," Klaus sighed.

Alaric pursed his lips and bowed his head, staring at his clasped hands, "But there were a lot of behavioral issues." He sifted through the folder, reading off as he flipped through page after page, "aggressive altercations with other students, outbursts that scared her peers, inability to follow the rules, and of course I'm sure you have heard about Henry."

"And the unfortunate death of her former art teacher and lover Mr. Bradley…" Klaus added dully.

"Yes, his wife is devastated and has taken a leave of absence. She is a wonderful teacher here at the school and wrote up most of these achievement reports on Hope."

As if Klaus gave a shit about how his wife was faring. As if any of this was news to him. Of course his daughter was brilliant and highly skilled. The helpful part she likely got from her mother, but the rest was to be expected. She was the daughter of an Original. And a teenager. Of course there were behavioral issues.

"I imagine you are going somewhere with this Headmaster. If you do not mind, could we arrive there shortly so that I can check on my sister?"

Alaric's chair creaked when he leaned back, lacing his finger's behind his head. "Hope once came to me with concerns about her abilities. She told me that she wasn't so sure her powers were coming from the same places as the other students."

Klaus stopped lazily swirling his glass and narrowed his eyes to ask, "What did you make of her claims? Did you inform Hayley?"

"One of the kids that were compelled by Elijah in the art studio had a message when Josie tried to reverse the compulsion," Alaric explained, sliding his tablet in front of Klaus.

He peered at the image, a screen shot taken of one of the canvases. On it in thick blue paint was a symbol. It was of a waxing, full, and waning moon.

"Do you know what that is?"

"Yes of course, anyone with basic witchcraft knowledge knows what that is. What does it have to do with my daughter?"

"It is commonly used to represent the triple goddess. There are many meanings and interpretations but something struck me. Hope told me her powers felt like they came from the earth, moon, and something else. Not her New Orleans ancestors and not herself, but someone else," Alaric said.

Klaus rubbed his forehead, sighing heavily, "Inadu? Does Inadu fancy herself a triple goddess?"

"Perhaps. It's worth looking into. Hope is linked to her power or a similar power, we may have a bigger problem on our hands."

//

"Hayley?" Ada's voice softly called over the sounds of the crowd. Hayley turned from the group of kids lining up for graduation to face Ada's bright green eyes. The young girl looked so grown up in her graduation gown and long dark hair. Hayley remembered braiding that hair for Ada and Hope's fifth grade graduation.

Ada looked down at her feet and worried her lip before saying, "I just wanted to say that I would like to help in any way I can. I mean, with finding Hope. I heard you sent Bruno to her and know where she's staying?"

Hayley nodded and said, "Yeah, um…we know the vicinity. Thank you sweetie, we are doing everything we can right now for her." The last thing she needed was for any of the students to get any bright ideas about swooping in to save Hope on their own. Hayley couldn't concentrate on Hope if the other kids were putting themselves in danger.

"Lizzie wanted me to find you and let you know that Freya made a first contact and that Hope is okay but she lost contact shortly after."

Hayley's eyes widened and she grabbed Ada's shoulders, "she's okay?"

"I think so. Freya doesn't know why she lost contact but she's still trying. She wanted me to tell you that Mr. Mikaelson had a bit to drink so Headmistress Salvatore insisted he go wait at the Mystic Grill bar."

Hayley wasted no time in getting to him. If he was already drinking himself into a stupor then the rest of the night wouldn't go so well. She needed him sharp and ready for whatever Freya found out.

"Ahhhh, Little Wolf!" Klaus called out from the end of the bar.

Hayley took a seat next to him and yanked his drink out of his hand, downing it in a gulp. Slamming it down she said, "I really needed that. I take it you heard about Hope's contact with Freya?"

He ordered another drink with a raised finger, "I need at least a few more. Caroline forgets I'm over a century old and can handle far more than she. I believe I was making her nervous."

Hayley leaned her chin on her propped hand and smiled into her bent fingers. She didn't blame her, it was disconcerting to see Klaus with a relaxed smile on his face, let alone in the middle of a crisis. But she had been here before with him and knew it wasn't so bad. He sobered up quickly usually and this was the perfect way to kill time until they heard some real news from Hope. If she kept him from drinking himself into that stupor…

"The headmaster pulled me into his office," Klaus sighed, grabbing the fresh glass of whiskey out of the bartender's hand before it ever touched the counter. Hayley murmured an apology to Zeke. He made the best whiskey sours. Even better than Jackson's.

She took Klaus's drink from him again to take a gulp before replying, "I heard all about it. And the symbol. I know it's just another piece of the puzzle but I think we can trust Ric to figure out a connection. He really knows his stuff and is dedicated to the students. He and Hope got along really well in the harder times."

"Love. Sweetheart. Would you like me to order you your own drink?"

She ignored him and said, "Josie is still working on deciphering any further messages Elijah may have compelled the other students to paint but it's hard convincing their parents to subject any of them to more torturous spells."

"They do hurt like a bitch but since when do we ask permission when it comes to our daughter? All in Hayley, you promised."

"I know, and I am. If it comes to it, we'll cross that bridge. For now, Josie is working with a kid I know. He's a friend of Hope's and volunteered."

"Another-" Klaus paused to do air quotes, "friend?"

Hayley rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her short hair. "Just a friend. He was a wolf kid I picked up a long time ago. He triggered his curse when he was only twelve. He put his mom out of her misery, she was suffering from cancer and she asked him to, not knowing what would happen."

"Tragic," Klaus drawled with a bored yawn.

Hayley flicked his shoulder, "stop, it wouldn't kill you to feel something for strangers once in a while. You don't have to be related to or sleeping with someone to care."

"Who says I care about either of those categories? I care about my daughter. That is all," Klaus shrugged, taking another sip.

"Right…well-" Hayley stood and thrust out her hand, "I am not a century old and haven't drank in a while. Dance with me?" She had ulterior motives of course. Henry had just walked in and the last thing she needed was a blood bath and hours wasted compelling the bar patrons to forget how he died.

Klaus wrinkled his nose, "You hate dancing."

"Only when I was hugely pregnant with your sinful seed. Come on, I need this."

He let her drag him by the hand to the dance floor where several couples swayed to some old romantic blues song on the jukebox. Hayley kept her eyes on Henry the whole time, watching the back of his dark head of hair as he sat down to order a drink. She'd always thought he looked a little like Jackson in physique and hair, but sharper features like Elijah. Two dates she went on with Henry before he broke it off. Finding out why had been one of the harder things in life.

"Hey," Klaus said softly, his hand big around hers as they began to sway, "I wanted to apologize for earlier."

Hayley furrowed her brows in confusion and said, "you mean for breaking the garden gnome?"

"Oh heavens no, I was waiting for a thank you for that, really," he smirked. His lips were shiny from all the alcohol and his eyes glassy. She tried not to notice his hand on her lower back and the way the tip of his pinkie finger had slid under her jean's waistband. Henry was looking around, she saw out of her peripheral.

"What for then?", she asked, actually curious.

"In the bed. Asking that of you. If it made you uncomfortable…"

"It didn't. I wouldn't have allowed it if I didn't want it," she shrugged. Truth was, it made her feel safer than she had in a long time. His touch, even now, was a comfort. Hayley didn't know why or how, but he was the only person she really wanted to be close to right now. It had to be because of Hope. Their scent was similar and some of their mannerisms too. Without thinking, she brushed a few loose dark honey curls from his brow just as she did with Hope.

He leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead before she could apologize for becoming so familiar. She became so wrapped up with this out of character moment of tenderness between them, that she failed to notice Henry approach.

"Sorry to interrupt but could I have a moment of your time?" Henry asked, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

Klaus stopped swaying and glanced with boredom. Hayley dropped her arms and stepped back in alarm. Henry must have a death wish. The last time she saw him she had left him on his knees in the middle of town gripping his groin in pain. Luckily it had not been in front of any of the kids from school, but enough townspeople had seen and taken notice. Hope still hadn't forgiven her for the attack, claiming full responsibility for their affair.

"Who is this?" Klaus asked, not tearing his narrowed glare from Henry.

"Let's step outside," Hayley suggested, grabbing Klaus's hand in hers and squeezing hard. She hoped the gesture would remind him that he did care for more than just his daughter and that she needed him to keep the violence to a minimum.

Things rarely go as planned with the father of her child, so it came as no surprise that Klaus pushed Henry by the neck to the brick wall outside as soon as he heard his name.

"Klaus," Hayley warned. When he didn't let go she twisted his other arm painfully, causing him to yelp and drop Henry back to his feet.

Turning to Henry with a hand on her hip she said in a warning tone, "look, unless you have something really important to say, I'd leave now before things get much worse for you."

Henry rubbed at his neck, swallowing thickly before replying, "Ada told me you spoke with Hope. I only wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help." He was a witch relieved of his teaching position after it was discovered he slept with Hope when she was only sixteen. His abilities were strong and he had taught Hope a lot in the earlier years when she was just a little girl. It made Hayley's stomach turn thinking about when it all started for him. When did he look at Hope and first realize he wanted to be with her? What kind of man was he really?

Klaus answered for her with a pointed finger, "Oh I think you have done more than enough already."

"Please…" Henry's voice broke.

Klaus mocked him with a faux pouty face before shoving him with a hand to the chest. Henry's head made a thud against the brick and Hayley winced when she smelled blood.

"You need to leave," Hayley warned him again, her heart hammering wildly and wolf senses prickling. She could smell the rage rolling off of Klaus in that familiar pungent sourness.

"I will. Just…look…", Henry rubbed both hands over his face, " Ada hasn't eaten a bite of food since hearing about Hope. She's sick with worry. With your permission, we would like to assist Freya in strengthening this communication realm. You know our abilities, we could help."

Klaus seemed to have calmed at the mention of Ada. The haze of alcohol had its perks in that it opened Klaus up to his softer emotions. One he knew well was the love a father has for his daughter and Hayley was grateful Henry thought to appeal to that. It was the only things the two men shared. Unless you count their dissimilar adoration for Hope.

"Very well. But I don't want to have to see your sad little pedophile face again or I will have to remove it," Klaus instructed. Both Henry and Hayley blanched at the terminology. Luckily Henry knew better than to say another word and left after a brief nod.

//

_You know what to do_ … Rosine's words hung in the air as Hope was dragged down the hall and into another bedroom.

Elijah's grip was too hard and his mouth remained in a grim line. Bruno barked and clawed at the door. He set her down hard on the bed, his eyes so cold. Hope knew the panic and knew how to help it. She detached. It was easy, she taught herself as a kid. Whenever her dad got too loud with her mom when they thought she was asleep, she would close her eyes tight and imagine a different scenario. Or she would block them out as much as she could with magic. She had been weaker then because her mom rarely let her flex her gifts, but it was enough to allow her a pretend land inside of her. With her magic she could really feel and smell the surroundings she saw in her mind.

Here, her powers were muted by other forces. Here, her uncle claims he can't control what he does for Inadu. Her bare toes pressed into the carpet as she watched Elijah prop her phone, pointing it towards the bed. Her fingers gripping the edge of the mattress, she closed her eyes. She was no victim.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, blinking away her emotions. She could be numb, it was as easy as pretending to be someone or somewhere else.

He began to unbutton his shirt, elegant fingers plucking at them with precision and speed. Hope's eyes followed the blue fabric as he shrugged it down his tone arms, tossing it to the floor. His finger cold when he placed it beneath her chin to guide her attention up to his stern gaze. He looked different than she imagined. Maybe she had always expected him to be as polished underneath as his suits were on the outside. He wasn't all bare, shaven, or perfectly sculpted. He was a real person just like her. It struck her strange how over time she had made her family of ancient vampires into these characters in her head. She had gotten so much wrong about him, she wondered how much her memories were skewed of her dad.

"Stand," he commanded.

It would be easier to just do what he says, scare the hell out of her parents, and get back to bed with Bruno. Hope Mikaelson was no victim. She folded her arms across her chest and blinked slowly at him with a challenge in her tone, "kneel."

Elijah narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. Hope's brows shot up when he slowly knelt before her, positioning himself between her cold legs. Her belly jumped and twitched as his finger tips run up her calves, snaking over to cup her knees. She liked that even though she was not in control, he gave her a little bit by obeying her command.

"There is something about you, Hope," Elijah admitted. His hands crept up her thighs, fingers nudging and pushing the hem of her dress higher.

Hope stilled him with her hands on his wrists, "Like I said. I'm sure you remember my mother somewhere in there. Deep down you don't want to do this." Her hair fell like a curtain around their faces, honey and amber tendrils that curled wildly from going too long without a brush.

Running his tongue across his teeth before he spoke, he replied, "have you ever been with a vampire?" His veins started to bulge under his eyes and again, Hope was mesmerized. She wondered idly as his mouth lowered to her inner thigh, if he was going to rape her. She wasn't a victim, not anymore. It was the only thought she could hold onto. Why wasn't he taking another picture and sending her to bed anyway, was this all for show for Rosine? He had to perform so that she would help him save the woman he loves that's supposedly drowning over and over in France? That woman was dead, she was sure of it. She felt it and rarely was she wrong. Then again, her powers were off here so maybe her intuition was too.

Hope yelped in surprise when his teeth sunk into her flesh. As quickly as he had done it, he released his bite to peer up at her. Blood coated his lips. It hadn't hurt, maybe because it was in her inner thigh and not on her wrist. She wasn't sure. Maybe he just didn't want it to hurt.

She watched the blood swirl over his teeth as he spoke, "I suspect out of all the things that would draw out your father's quickest problem solving skills, it would be watching his brother show his daughter how good it can feel to be with one."

Hope's eyes drifted past his bare shoulder to how her leg shook under the wound. She was healing but slowly, the warm blood running cold down her thigh and pooling into the sheets. Come to think of it, her whole body was shaking even though she didn't feel afraid. She didn't feel anything. It reminded her of the hour after her family fled and she screamed after her father in confusion. She sat just like this, shaking between her mother and Aunt Freya in the back of a car, feeling nothing at all.

"I like to start where I just bit you," he murmured, grazing his lips over the sticky crimson of her thigh. He moved to a sitting position beside her on the bed in a practiced motion, his hand moving the hair from her neck. She just kept staring at the blood on the sheets, soaking a big spot.

Her eyes shut tightly when his lips lowered to her neck. Hope flinched when she felt his mouth open hot and wet against her pulsing skin, but he merely placed a small suctioning kiss there, running a finger along her cheekbone.

Hope remembered watching her mother smile this different sort of smile when Uncle Elijah would place a kiss at her neck. They had been really happy together, Hope recalled that much. One night she scraped the hell out of her elbow and she had tried desperately not to cry. "It's okay to cry when something hurts," he had whispered to her, offering his hand to guide her into the huge bathroom. He hadn't kissed her knuckles like her father always did, but he always pinched her chin playfully to get her to smile up at him. She had forgotten about that until just now.

Elijah bit into the palm of his hand and let it hover beneath her chin. "Now you drink from me."

"Why?"

"I'll explain only after you drink."

He tasted just as sour as she remembered before, but not as bad. Vampire blood had a certain tartness from what she could tell, but she only had her own blood to compare it to. Once she had a tooth knocked out rough housing with some wolf kids her mom took in for a bit. It was exhilarating to spit her tooth out and clock the boy, rolling the taste of her blood around in her mouth proudly. Hope had always wanted to be tough. It was too bad she never really felt it unless she was hurting someone else trying to act like it.

Her stomach started to feel warm like after a shot of her mom's hidden bottle of whiskey-Jackson's whiskey.

"Feels good, does it not?," he urged with another press of his lips to that spot on her neck. It was true, she felt good. Funny, nobody ever talks about this. Not even the vampire teens at school. Maybe none of them had ever blood shared because none of the adults wanted them to know how great it felt. How buzzed it could leave you. How…erotic it started to feel to have the vampire touch you after you've drank him.

"I feel warm," she offered softly. Her leg healed quickly with his blood rushing her veins.

His hand dropped to her throat, fingers wrapped gently around her neck. He never squeezed but he didn't have to, she stopped breathing as soon as she felt his other hand snake up her dress and rest warmly right below her breast.

"Do you see why now?" he asked against her earlobe. She shivered. It not only felt good to be touched by him, but even the sound of his voice caused a pleasant yank in her belly.

Her gasp echoed when he bit into her neck. It felt like a sore bruise-but that faded with every pull from his suck. His hands were roaming now, elegant long fingers bumping up and down her ribs and spine, and he was moaning whisper soft as she became putty in his hands.

"Do you consent to going further?" he asked, unlatching. The wound throbbed but in a good way and it felt like a trickle of dopamine was running continuously through her chest. If this were a drug she would take it again and again. It would consume her. Interesting he was giving her a choice. It gave her a sense of safety beneath the blanket of blood and lust.

"What would you do?" she asked without thinking. Hope couldn't help it, she was drunk on him and her natural state had always been that of curiosity. Everything else was just disappearing.

A slow and deliberate smile pulled at his blood sodden mouth, "I would show you my favorite spot to feed from on a woman."

"Oh…" she bit her lip, remembering the camera. Remembering to say no. This wasn't an older stranger after a couple of drinks at Mystic Grill. This was the man who made her mom wake up giggling in the room over when they thought she was still asleep. This was a person who said he would love her always and forever just as he loved her father the same way. He cared about her once.

Elijah stood and walked over to the phone,shutting it off and tucking it into a drawer. He eyed her expectantly, waiting for her answer that would never be heard by anyone but the two of them. Hope wondered if she would burn for her sins if they caught up to her as they had against Ada with Henry. The thought of Henry only made her grow warmer in the places that throbbed and pulsed.

"Can I go back to my room if I consent?"

"You can go back now if you wish," he held out his hands in a gesture towards the door.

Hope rarely turned down a path untaken. A part of her wanted to be able to say she had tried it all. But this was so different. This was something that would gnaw at her later, she was sure of it. The guilt would be overwhelming if she admitted to herself and to him that she wanted to be bitten again and she wanted to know where on her body he would do it.

"I want to go back," she blurted out, standing and immediately swaying.

"Careful," he murmured, catching her by the arm. He almost sounded like her Uncle when he said it.

Rosine was in the kitchen chopping up something on the counter, Hope could hear the loud thwack's of the knife as she shut herself into her room. Bruno excitedly hopped off the bed to greet her, stopping short when he caught the scent of blood. She wouldn't let him lick it off of her, shoving him off repeatedly. He gave up and settled at the foot of the bed, leaving her room to stretch her legs under the sheets.

Hope would have to ask for clothes and toiletries tomorrow. Maybe they would even remember to feed her something other than vampire blood. She tried to think of anything but his touch and his taste as sleep tugged her away from the warmth between her legs.

//

"Hope…" Aunt Freya called. It took Hope several moments to figure out she was in the dream realm. The sound of her aunt's voice guided her back to the courtyard where both she and Uncle Elijah stood. It was a relief to see that in this realm, their appearance did not reflect what they looked like back in the waking world.

They both looked at her worriedly. Silent and watchful, she felt their eyes follow her as she took a seat on the fountain's ledge. Hope hid her face in her hands. In the dream realm, she could not feel the effects of his blood. All she felt now was the guilt she knew would come later. She hadn't asked for it, but she didn't put up a fight. She enjoyed it.

"What has he done?" Uncle Elijah asked, voice wobbling with emotion.

Then Hope remembered she never took the herbs to get to the dream realm this time. Rosine threw them out. They must still be in her system. Maybe the vampire blood had been enough to bump up the hallucinogenic properties remaining. Aunt Freya must have been waiting here in case she came back since she had been pulled away so quickly.

Hope dropped her hands and took a deep breath, knowing there wasn't much time until Rosine discovered Elijah passed out again.

"I don't think I'll be able to communicate further. The herbs were found and…another text will be coming soon."

Uncle Elijah's shoulders sagged beneath the crisp suit jacket he wore so well. He yanked at his tie as if loosening it would help whatever he was struggling with. Hope feared she would not be able to fix this if she told anyone the whole truth.

"You shouldn't have been able to return without another dose of herbs," Aunt Freya said slowly, moving to stand next to Elijah. Hope watched her put a hand on his arm and gently squeeze, offering him comfort in that way she did.

Turns out, Hope wasn't as great a liar in the dream realm as in the real world. Her first reaction was the first was like getting caught with her Uncle Kol's dirty magazine all over again. She still didn't know who had been more embarrassed, Kol or herself.

"Hope…" Aunt Freya warned, "I need all the information if we are going to help you."

Hope's eyes darted to meet Uncle Elijah's and they both flinched.

"Okay. I drank some of his blood. I'm assuming the buzz carried on over when I fell asleep." She tried to shrug it off and busied herself with a thread on her dress. Things sure did look and feel real in here…

He immediately approached her, hand on his hip and the other pointing towards her, "Why did you need to drink from me-him…I mean him."

"He's just trying to get a reaction out of dad. He mentioned the fastest way of doing that would be to show me how-" Hope let out a sigh. This was the worst. She did not want to talk about this with Uncle Elijah. He was right in referring to the man in the real world as someone different than the man standing before her with complete shock and devastation on his face.

Aunt Freya moved closer, taking a seat next to her and speaking in soothing tones, "you're doing great, niece. But tell me, is it safe to speak freely in front of Elijah? Did he remember anything of the dream realm?"

Hope shook her head, "He has no idea. Rosine does though, that's how she found the herbs. She knew I was up to something when she found him passed out. I think I tugged him in here with me. Well, the part compelled away anyway."

"Good," he replied crisply, "now tell me what happened and do not leave anything out."

Hope knew better than to tell him the parts about how she struggled with her decision on finding out what his favorite place to feed on a woman was, but she tried to retell the rest. At times he would make her repeat a part and asked her questions like, "did he hurt you?" even though she told him a million times none of it hurt and that it really seemed like he did not want to harm her. I mean, he did ask for her consent after a certain point. Why would he do that? Not that Hope could mention that part.

"Listen to me," he croaked, kneeling in front of her like he did when she was little and he wanted her to pay the utmost attention to his words, "I love you very much but that man does not. You cannot trust him. If there is someone out there he loves, he will manipulate you in the best way he knows how. This gentle and kind act is just that-an act."

She wished she had something to say that would comfort him. He was far more upset than she had ever seen him before…and back then, there had been plenty to be upset about. Hope knew why her mother broke things off with him. She had wheedled it out of her years later when her mom was a good bottle and a half through some merlot. Hope still couldn't believe that Uncle Elijah was less than noble and good at his core. Her mother had been wrong.

"I know you don't want to see me as a grown girl because to you I was little just a breath ago, but I am almost eighteen now. I know what I'm doing with men like him." She had meant for the words to evoke some sort of faith in her but she could see it only upset him further.

Hope was happy to be yanked back into the waking world, even if it was only to wake back up to an empty room and Bruno licking her blood smeared skin.

"Good dog," she whispered into the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4  
Song Rec: “Speech of Foxes” by Gem Club

* * *

 

 

“Pass the spatula, please. Who taught you to do it that way?” Elijah asked. Hope watched him saute the vegetables in pretty much the exact same way. What was with men thinking their way was always better even if the outcome was the same?

“I learned from a really old guy,” Hope replied, popping a chunk of avocado into her mouth. The taste only made her think of taco Tuesdays with mom and Ada. Tacos were the only food her mom didn’t mind giving up her blood only diet for. Human food hurt her stomach and said her dad once told her it took him just under eighty years after turning to be able to eat normal meals again without getting violently ill after.

When the silence felt too thick again, Hope decided to get the ingredients ready for the next step to the meal. After a lot of whistling and chopping, Hope glanced up to realize he had been staring at her with a small smile the whole time. So he finally figured out who that old guy was that taught her how to make his specialty. She smiled back.

“You taught me all this when we all first got settled in New Orleans. I was probably too young to be working with knives and open flames but you were so patient and calm it never really occurred to me. I thought mom was going to stab you. But then I think she saw how happy I was.”

He looked sad for a moment. A flicker of remorse maybe. Uncle Elijah was wrong about this version of himself. Hope found him to be just as kind and patient with her when Rosine wasn’t around.

Hope changed the subject. “What’s it like living with chunks of your memory missing?”

He considered the question for a moment, pouring himself another glass of wine.

“It doesn’t feel like anything is missing. Perhaps my mind mended over the frayed memories using different details to fill in the blanks. Sometimes I feel a sense that something is not as it should be, but those moments are fleeting.”

Hope leaned forward. “So I don’t stir any memories in you? Like a feeling or something?” She tilted her head to display her best Hayley look. It always freaked people out. But not as much as when she stared someone down in her father’s glare and spoke in his accent.

He turned down the heat on the stove and settled his gaze on her best efforts. She kept switching between the two, “And now?” Hair flip and sultry stare, “And now?” said in a menacing British accent with a raised chin and defiant glare.

It was the first time Hope had ever seen Elijah smile like that and it left her transfixed. Maybe it was true what her mom said that one time she got drunk on Caroline’s egg nog. Maybe everyone could be happy like Elijah if they forgot everything to do with the name Mikaelson. Hope had spent a full day in her art room after that comment, even though Caroline explained to her later that being a mom is tough and sometimes they falter and say things the wrong way. Hope still felt that the blonde had no idea what she was talking about. Her mother clearly meant forgetting her too.

Elijah’s chuckle tugged her back. “I apologize, I don’t mean to laugh. I can tell you worked very hard at that. It’s just that I have no recollection of your parents, though I do look forward to meeting your father, he looks adorably terrifying.”

Hope smiled and checked on the bread, needing to put space between them. She didn’t realize how much she missed her family until now. Until she was with one of them again. Maybe this Elijah didn’t remember any of them, but he was still her Uncle. He still looked the same, smelled the same, and spoke the same.  
But he smiled more and talked to her like an adult. He touched her like one too when they blood shared.

Elijah gestured for her to go sit at the table as he prepared her plate. She eyed his glass of wine longingly as he settled across from her, sliding her the meal.

Hope wondered if he didn’t eat because of the stomach thing or if he was just one of those vampires who had no desire for the old human comforts and habits.

He sure did like that glass of wine though, two down in under thirty minutes. Hope wondered why he didn’t just drink from the bottle and be done with it. She smiled to herself when he rubbed a spot off the wine glass, always so clean and put together. Her parents were freaking out over nothing she was sure. Elijah without the love for his family was still Elijah. He never hit her or pushed her too far. She liked that he gave her a little control.

Hope took a bite and moaned into her fork. God that was good. She was starving. She ate as slow as she could, not wanting to look like one of those wolf kids her mom brought in who had been eating out of trashcans for months. The clicking of Bruno’s nails on the linoleum reminded Hope that he needed to eat too.

He probably needed to go back home and was waiting for her to follow. It hurt that she couldn’t. Hope missed her mom, she hadn’t realized how much until today. She needed to make sure she was okay. Hayley was a freaking ferocious woman and Hope thought she was the strongest person in the world, but sometimes her mother broke in silence. Sometimes she retreated so far inside of herself that Hope could barely reach her.

Elijah cleared his throat before saying, “Rosine left you a bag of clothing and other items you requested in your room.” He stood and took her plate to the sink, his movements graceful even through how calculated they were.

Hope asked dryly, “And where did the voodoo magician go? Collecting chicken bones and fashioning a doll made of the hair of her enemies?”

Elijah chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “I would not know. She has little communicative skills. I merely want this demon extracted and my Edith returned to me.”

He drank out of the bottle this time, tilting it up by the neck and draining the rest. Somehow he made it look elegant, even though a droplet dripped down his chin. It reminded her of her blood all over his mouth which only reminded her that she really almost crossed a line last night. He gave her a choice and she had to think about it as if it were hard to say no. Her therapist said sexual impulsiveness came with the territory of borderline personality disorder. Hope had trouble with boundaries if someone piqued her sexual interest. It wasn’t even something she thought about, it was just inside of her. It took a lot to fight against it and she lost that battle time and again. Hell, she had even convinced Ada one night that it would be fun to mess around. It had been, but Ada felt guilty forever about it because she’s super religious and that only made Hope feel like a shitty friend. So that’s when Hope started pushing her away. That’s when Henry started looking appealing.

“I’m going to take a bath,” Hope murmured. He said nothing, but she felt his eyes on her as she retreated down the hallway.

It was nice to soak in the hot water, her skin turning pink and sweat beading at her brow. Hope wondered what Henry and Ada were doing right now. Were they worried? Was Ada already packing up for college? She wondered about Jonathon Bradley too. Even though she had only hooked up with him for the sex, he mattered to her. He must think she just up and left him. But, he had a family. Two little girls who needed him.

Hope felt ashamed now that distance had spread between herself and Mr. Brandon. How many nights had he sacrificed time with his family for burying himself inside of her in the loft? She did him a favor by cutting things off. She knew it seemed so sudden, but it hadn’t been to her. Hope had waited much longer than she meant to as it was. Her plan was to just disappear with her father, go to New Orleans and start fresh. She pretended to hate the idea of returning to where her nightmare began, but another part of her was thrilled at finally facing it all and being with the one person who had made her feel like a princess. Like she deserved the attention she got. At least Jonathan was safe. Nobody knew about their affair like they had with Henry.

“Hope?” Elijah called from the closed door.

With a huff she replied, “bath time is a time for silent reflection.” Uncle Elijah had told her that when she was little and pissed off that she couldn’t join her mother for a bath one night. Thinking back, her mother had been off that night. Sad maybe. She got like that around hers and Jackson’s wedding anniversary date. Maybe that had been it.

“I agree with you, though there are pressing matters I would like to discuss.”

Why the hell hadn’t they discussed them in the kitchen? Hope didn’t bother asking. He was old and strange. God, she’d be insane by now if she had to live so long with the same thoughts cycling for centuries. No wonder vampires craved the blood even when they were full. How else do they feel good under all the weight of the past.

Without answering him, but letting out an exaggerated sigh, Hope unhooked the tub drain with her toe and sloshed out to towel off. He followed her to her room but kept his back to her, peering out of the window with folded arms.

Pulling on her new pair of panties that Rosine had picked up, she asked, “well, what is it?”

“I’ve been working with someone outside of Rosine. He’s outside right now and would like to speak with you.”

Hope paused midway through pulling on some black yoga pants. They were tight as hell but better than wearing the same dress every day. “Who?”  
Using her teeth, Hope tore the tag off of a new bra, trying to move quicker. Who the hell would be working with Elijah?

“His name is Vincent Griffith.”

Hope’s finger’s froze over the bra clasp. Her eyes closed. Who needed to go to New Orleans when New Orleans came to you.

* * *

 

Hey! You!”

Klaus spun around. Who in hades was screaming? Ada was red faced and clamoring up the porch stairs after him. She took him by surprise, spunky little thing.  
Her corduroy skirt and combat boots reminded him of something Hayley would have worn before she developed a more adult fashion sense…

“Four stitches!” she squalled. He raised his eyebrows in question and she let out a frustrated growl. “Four stitches in the back of my dad’s head you asshole!”

“Ah, right. Do run along dear, I have more important things to tend to.”

“No! You don’t get to treat people like that! And you called him a pedophile?! He’s NOT a pedophile!”

Klaus was hungry and he momentarily considered biting into the girl if only to hush her whilst feeding. Two stones and whatnot…

“He is an adult man who slept with a child. What else would you call it?”

“Sixteen is hardly a child. And you don’t even know the whole story. You don’t know what happened,” Ada argued, walking in front of him and blocking the front door.

He rolled his eyes and chuckled, “Sixteen. Six years past ten. Child.”

“I know how to do math.”

Klaus put his hands firmly on both of her shoulders and moved her out of the way, grabbing the door handle and entering the home. She followed him in, her dirty little boots clomping into the kitchen. He let out a loud sigh when she continued yammering as he pulled a bottle of wine from the refrigerator. Examining it, he contemplated hitting the girl over the head with it. He’d heal her after. Compel her as well. Can’t have Caroline or Hayley catching wind of his impulses.

“Plus,” she continued, “didn’t you like have a thing for the headmistress when she was just a teenager? So what are you, a hypocritical pedophile?”

“Hmm,” he scratched at his chin, “that would be the worst kind would it not?”

She didn’t seem amused so he rolled his eyes and poured her a glass as well. The dark haired girl with emerald eyes and legs for days was growing on him. He imagined what Hope must be like if this was her best friend. Perhaps just as mouthy and hot-tempered. According to her behavioral issues in that ridiculous folder Alaric trifled through, this seemed a likely hypothesis.

“I suppose the term was used a touch loosely. It was still wrong to take advantage of my young daughter. I do not let such things go unpunished. You should have have heard this about my family; paid more attention in supernatural history class.”

She took a big gulp from her glass, setting it down with a clank on the marble island.

Ada narrowed her eyes and stated, “Underage drinking.”

“Ah right, I forget the laws as they change every so often. Be a dear and don’t mention that to your headmistress, and I’ll let you finish it off.”

She took another gulp and this time held on to her glass, pushing away from the island to slowly walk around and stand right in front of him. The girl had serious moxie. She was truly delightful in a way a new puppy is before they lose their initial charm and start chewing everything.

“My dad messed up but so did Hope. She was the one who started it with her love songs she’d sing at Mystic Grill and the stupid sketches she would draw and leave behind for him. Everyone knows she’s sick in the head and that’s why I’m so worried about her. Older guys she isn’t supposed to be with are her thing.  
It’s like she can’t help herself.”

Irritation flared inside his chest. Whether it was true or not, he did not like anyone speaking ill of his daughter. What was this girl, perfect? What was she doing over here drinking his wine and standing so close. Perhaps projection was a problem for the young girl. Equally concerning was why Ada was worried at all for Hope if this was the way she viewed her.

Taking a step forward, making it an uncomfortable closeness between them, Klaus opened his mouth to reply. His words never began because the front door flung open and Hayley came tearing in. Freya was right behind her, red faced and wide eyed. It took him a moment to see that Hayley was upset. Extremely upset. Ada moved several steps out of the way, making room for Klaus to approach Hayley’s stiff form.

“Is it Hope?” Klaus asked, his voice strained.

Hayley shakily handed him her phone and allowed Freya to guide her to the couch by the arm. Klaus didn’t even notice Ada stand next to him, peering at the screen.

This was no picture. He needed air.

* * *

 

To find him, Hayley had to use not only her wolf senses but her vampire ones too. Klaus made it all the way to the overgrown pasture that homed horses once, long before Hayley and Hope called this place theirs. The crows cawed meanly at the hybrid’s intrusion from the decaying fence posts as Hayley approached  
Klaus’s kneeling form. His expensive shoes were sunken into the dark soil,fingers curled into fists at his sides. The muscles of his arms were so taut that he was shaking.

His scream that tore from his lungs was so rattling it cause the crows to clear not only the fence, but trees as far back as the eyes could see. It was eerily silent after the echo subsided. Hayley was the only creature who stood facing the sound because she knew it, knew what it felt like. That sound barely touched on what it was to watch Elijah blood share with their little girl. Hope’s uncle, Hayley’s ex lover, and Klaus’s closest brother. Even if they restored his memories, Hayley knew everything would be different. There would always be this shadow over the brothers and there would never be an Elijah and Hayley again. It was like that part was dead now. At least she hoped it was dead. To feel for him again would be the worst punishment.

Hayley spoke gently, never sure what Klaus’s threshold for pain was, “Freya talked to him. Elijah.” She about choked on his name. Maybe it wasn’t the time but it needed to be said. All the facts needed to be presented before she let Klaus take over the well thought out plans and risk hurting Hope inadvertently.

Klaus responded in silence, rocking back on his heels to stand. He still wouldn’t face her. Hayley knew he was crying but in that stoic and contained way that he was so good at. Just tears trailing down his face and a look of solemn thought. When he turned around to speak, she realized she was wrong. Hayley saw the bloody claw marks down his cheeks. They really weren’t much different from one another, hurting themselves because it was better than hurting someone else. But someone had to hurt for it. Someone had to pay for it.

His voice was like dry gravel, the scream-ripped vocal chords not yet healed, “What does he have to say for himself?”

“Freya says he doesn’t have access to what is going on outside of the dream realm. When she told him, he was…devastated. He wanted to tell us that he will make this right and to kill him if necessary.”

“Interesting that he thinks there is a choice to be made. I will put him down like the sick animal that he has always been.”

“You told me he was the very best of you when I asked you if our daughter was safe with him as my partner,” Hayley reminded him dully. She was playing devil’s advocate because some part of her felt she owed at least that much to Elijah. The man he tried to be. Pretended to be.

Klaus stalked up to her and out of habit she submitted, looked down and waited for her punishment. It was a weak habit that she kicked herself for every time. It was the foster kid in her, too many angry men in her face. She supposed that kid inside would never die because if she did, Hayley would lose her edge. You had to have edge to survive and she was no quitter. Not when there was a little girl looking to her to show her how to navigate this messed up life.  
Hayley could smell the blood on his face. She hadn’t fed in so long, not from the vein. Her senses were overacting, she could feel the pinch in her gums. She turned quickly, not wanting him to mistake it as a challenge. The last thing she wanted right now was throwing what little energy she had into wolfing out and fighting until they had said all the things they knew would destroy each other.

His grip on her arm was tight, but it didn’t hurt. He swung her around, holding her firmly in place by the shoulders. His palms felt warm and damp through the thin fabric of her blouse.

Staring down into her unblinking eyes, he asked hoarsely, “Do you know what it’s like to blood share, Little Wolf?”

She felt a muscle in her face twitch, right below her eye. She replied, “not personally.” It was kind of hard to feed off of your vampire boyfriend when your bite carried wolf venom. She and Elijah had discussed it once, but buried the idea when they decided they couldn’t be sure if her blood cured his reaction to the venom. Asking Klaus in the middle of the night after blood sharing for his blood was just never worth it to Hayley. And she refused to let Elijah suffer through it. It was horrible watching someone suffer in that way.

“It becomes very personal,” he began, his voice starting to clear back into his usual warm tone. A summer breeze rustled the grass around their legs and an airplane masked the pick up in her breathing. Klaus bit into his palm and held it beneath her nose. Her senses flared but she hesitated even as he brought the open wound to her trembling lips, just breathing him in and she could taste the coppery air around it.

“Go on,” he urged softly, “I know you are hungry.”

Hayley reopened the wound with her fangs, feeling that pluck of the skin that she found she enjoyed the most when feeding.

Their mutual desire for revenge bubbled below the surface. Elijah told her it would be her downfall if she didn’t learn to control it now. You’ll be no different than Niklaus and I love you too much to let that happen. He said that after she offed the witches who were a part of trying to harm her baby.

Klaus’s palm was salty with sweat, but she enjoyed his taste. Her tongue swirled lazily over the healing wound until it closed. She never did that with her food.  
Hayley’s mind was becoming sharper now, Klaus’s blood fueling her like no other feed had before. She pushed away as it suddenly rushed her and became dizzyingly overwhelming.

“What the hell…-are you on something?”, she asked, grabbing onto his arms to steady herself. It reminded her of that time she fed off of one of the tourists who had been doing Ecstasy all night. That was a crazy night. She had called Klaus to come get her because there was no way in hell she was admitting to Elijah that she messed up being a good vampire already. That all felt so long ago now.

Klaus ran the back of a finger down her neck, eyes on her lips, “Original blood is potent. Do enjoy, you deserve it. I only ask for a little of it back, in return.”

Hayley found that his words warmed her, but it was nothing compared to the way her skin buzzed under his touch. The nervousness of messing up or embarrassing herself out of fumbling inexperience left her, a desire taking its place. She knew what it was like to feed on someone, but it had never been someone she really knew. It had alway been for food or as an attack.

“Okay…” she agreed in an unsteady whisper.

He moved closer and she felt him everywhere. His fingers sweeping her hair from her neck and she felt it in her toes. The shivering down her spine was directly connected to his breath tickling her ear as he whispered back, “I can’t hear you.”

Hayley knew he was trying to prove a point. He was showing her what an original vampire could do to someone with their blood. He wanted her to understand what Elijah was really doing with Hope. Hayley knew this and didn’t care. All she wanted was his fangs inside of her so that she knew what that felt like with him swimming in her veins. She wanted it all the way into the warming flesh between her thighs.

She could feel his smile against her neck right before his mouth opened and the pain began. He bit deep but the throb and burn went away as soon as he began to drink. Hayley heard every swallow of her pulse that he ingested in slow and erotic movements of his lips and tongue. She felt the scruff of his chin and his own shameless desire pushing against her thigh. In the back of her mind she knew this was going too far. It was one thing to cuddle in bed while mourning and scared for their child, but this was quickly turning into something else.

Her mouth opened, she needed to say something. Anything. But he was lifting her and pushing her against a fence post and then she was biting into him once more. His scent, taste, and searing skin filled her like the blood did and now she was moaning into the messy wound she had inflicted. Hayley wasn’t sure what would have happened if Caroline and Ada hadn’t walked outside and found them.

Klaus unlatched and stumbled back at the sound of Caroline’s voice. Before either of the hybrids could feebly explain, Caroline was already ushering Ada back towards the driveway and into her car.

“I’ll talk to her,” Hayley assured him, seeing the way his face fell.

He shrugged in defeat and wordlessly held out his hand for her. Hayley took it and let him lead the way back into the farmhouse where it was time to discuss with Freya just how they were going to kill Elijah without getting Hope killed. Klaus had wanted her on his side. He wanted Elijah dead, and he made sure that Hayley wouldn’t stop him.

* * *

 

 

Hope stepped outside, dressed like she was ready to go jogging in the active-wear that Rosine bought her. Vincent looked pretty much how she remembered, except now he had a streak of salt and pepper through his beard. He didn’t smile or frown, so it was hard to tell what he was here for. Hope tried opening up and feel what it was he was feeling towards her. Like a slap, she was shut out.

“I would keep that at a minimum with other witches. They can feel you prying even if they don’t understand what it is you’re doing,” Vincent said, his hands clasped tightly in front of him.

“You’ll have to forgive my memory,” Hope said wryly, crossing her arms across her chest, “but I can’t quite recall whose side you’re on.”  
He smiled then, jerking his head towards the sky to squint towards a sound in the trees. He seemed jumpy. Hope wished Elijah were outside with them, she didn’t feel safe. Her powers were muted here, how could she defend herself? Maybe Elijah couldn’t kill her himself, he had to have someone else come and do it.

“I’m on the right side. Though, the lines are always blurry, aren’t they.” He wasn’t asking. Hope thought he was odd. Even so, he seemed too nervous which only made her nervous.

Hope looked behind her, hoping to see Elijah in the window, but it was empty. Turning back, she asked, “what can I do for you Mr. Griffith?”

He motioned towards the house and said, “he can’t hear anything we say. I put a sound barrier spell in place. I just need to know one thing before we proceed.”  
She raised her eyebrows in response.

Scratching the back of his head, he asked, “Who do you fight for Miss Mikaelson?” What the hell kind of question was that…

Hope shrugged and replied, “America?” He didn’t look amused. She smiled for the both of them and asked, “Who do you propose I fight for?”

“In a world where there are races of supernatural beings, none of which get along very well, who do you fight for?” He stepped closer, cocking his head and continuing, “considering you are made of all three, double dipped in wolf.”

Hope oddly enough had never considered the question. Her family was who she fought for. She was a Mikaelson, that’s what they did. Was he hoping for something more? Did he expect something else? It wouldn’t be the first time she’s disappointed someone’s expectations of her. It wouldn’t be the last.

“Look, unless there’s a full blown out war going on between the three, how the hell am I supposed to know the answer to that? I’m not a wolf yet, I’m barely allowed to practice magic, and the only vampire qualities I have are an aversion to people with garlic breath and splinters. God I hate splinters, I can’t imagine someone coming at me with a stake. Oh, and I can heal. But I’m still not allowed to test to what extent.”

Vincent shook his head slowly, a forced smile at his lips. “You talk too much when you don’t know the answer. just like your father. I imagine I need to rephrase the question.”

Hope let out an exaggerated sigh and said around a phony smile, “If you must.”

“Lets say your life depended on your answer. Lets also say that your family is not a factor.”

Hope ran a hand through her hair and sighed, “Look, I don’t want your city. I don’t care who rules it or if the wolves and vampires can’t get along. None of this matters to me. I just wanted to be with my family again. If you can’t help me with that then you are wasting my time.”

Vincent let out a bark of laughter, clutching his chest dramatically, “Oh you really are a Mikaelson, aren’t you? Thinking it is on your time that we meet.

Thinking that you have a chance in hell out of this without getting your hands dirty.”

He came so close to her that she felt the wind from his hand movements as he spoke, “You are New Orleans royalty. You are hypothetically the most powerful entity on earth. You can’t just turn your back on our city. There are people suffering. There are wolves with that same birthmark on their shoulders, and vampires turned by your family, and witches not allowed to do what is their natural given right to do. The witches were here first. The witches created the vampires and werewolves. It’s time we got our time running the city. Your father couldn’t do it and Marcel Gerard sure as hell couldn’t do it. But what about you. What can you do for us, Hope?”

Why the hell was Elijah working with the witches? She remembered him nodding in agreement with her father over how much he despised witches. Hope was snooping and they hadn’t seen her hiding under her dad’s desk. She did that a lot. She knew a lot that she probably shouldn’t like how differently her father acted around his family when he was mad and Hope wasn’t supposed to see. She knew he wasn’t kind to others like he was to her. In a way she loved that. His best parts were just for her. Elijah wouldn’t have agreed to help witches without something in return or some sort of motivation.

Narrowing her eyes, Hope asked softly, “what have you offered Elijah for this allegiance? How is he able to help you with a piece of Inadu controlling his actions?”

“The Hollow and I want the same thing. Hell, even Marcel wants the same thing. We are just all working different angles to get there. All I need from you is a promise that you’ll come to me first when you figure out your role. When things are said and done and you’re scared and nobody is listening. You come find me.”

“Why? Why would I do that? You haven’t given me anything to go on but you’re asking I trust someone I don’t even barely remember.”

“Freya will explain more in the dream realm tonight. Do not repeat a thing I have spoken to you tonight to Elijah. Tell him I offered you a deal like I offered him one. He won’t push any further,” Vincent said. He pushed something into her hand. “Put this into his back when he least expects it but wait until the full moon.

You’re already unlinked, I took care of it. He won’t die, but it will extract the piece of Inadu remaining and hold her there for a short time. When Elijah recovers, I suggest you both run and you don’t look back until you have to.”

Vincent turned and walked away, hands stuffed in his dark leather jacket. Hope walked back inside and leaned against the door, deep in thought. If Vincent offered Elijah a deal and Freya knows about it, why don’t her parents? Why did Vincent say everyone wants the same thing as Inadu? Didn’t Inadu want to use Hope as a sacrifice or something? What the actual hell was going on here?

Hope looked down at the thin dagger with a large stone on the handle. She would need to find a way to get to the dream realm tonight. Too bad Vincent hadn’t known to sneak her some herbs. Hope hid the dagger in the toilet tank, wondering how she would know what she should do come time for the full moon. She only had two days. Two days to figure out who she was going to fight for in a war she hadn’t even realized she was a part of. The threat had always seemed like  
Marcel and she thought her father handed him the city for peace. It was annoying how in the dark her family had kept her through the years. Look what good that did her. Now she was at the mercy of anyone with a good story to tell.

They should have just named her Hopeless.

* * *

 

Freya was of no use to Klaus tonight so he sent her back to work with Alaric and his daughters. It was quite likely that he was merely on edge, but he swore she was purposefully dragging her feet on figuring out how to unlink Hope from the others. They could do nothing for his daughter until that happened. The longer they sat here, the longer Elijah had to coerce Hope into his twisted fantasies.

Now with Caroline not answering his texts, Klaus was sure he had pissed off every female in his life by now. Except for Hope and maybe Hayley. He was not sure about her feelings towards the blood sharing earlier, as she had not looked at him once since showering and changing into a long nightshirt. Instead, she stared at her computer screen on the couch, twisting her lower lip between finger and thumb.

“What are you so involved in over there?,” Klaus asked, breaking the silence from the kitchen. He groaned in relief when he saw the bottle of scotch.

“Caroline left booze before. Any luck getting a response from her?” Hayley asked after a loud yawn, ignoring his inquiry.  
He took a swig from the bottle, tossing the cap loudly across the island as he strode by to join her on the couch. Without tearing her gaze from the glow of computer screen, she reached out for the bottle, wiggling her fingers. While she took a large gulp, he pulled her feet into his lap.

“I want you to know something,” he began, wishing he had taken more sips before handing over his liquid courage.

“Yeah? What’s that?” she asked in that tone he’d always hated. Like she could give two shits about what came out of his mouth. Klaus tried not to bristle, and focused instead on how uncomfortable she looked to have his knuckles running along her toes and her heels propped on his leg.

“The way that things felt today as we were…”

“Dry humping and acting like blood thirsty teenagers?” Hayley filled in for him.

Klaus pinched her big toe and sighed, “eloquently put, but yes. The way that felt was…different than it has been for me in the past.”

“What are you trying to say?” Hayley asked, snapping the screen of her computer shut to meet his gaze.

“I would say that it did not accurately portrays what it must have felt like for Elijah and Hope. At least not in my experience. It could simply be because you and I are both hybrids.”

“How different are we talking?”

Klaus shrugged, “I suppose not too different. It felt more intense with you. I’m betting on my hybrid theory. That is all.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better about his mouth on my daughter’s body,” she muttered.

He let out a long sigh, dropping his head to the back of the couch to stare at the ceiling. He didn’t know why he was wasting time trying to make Hayley feel better when he himself was boiling inside. Hayley needed some sort of release. He took care of himself in the shower, how could he not after the way she tasted with his blood in her veins.

“Were you looking at pornography on your computer?” He just wanted to make her smile. Maybe he could convince her to get drunk with him and pass out in her extremely comfortable bed. He was tired after all of that and with nothing to look forward to but another suggestive text from Elijah, Klaus would rather sleep away his time.

Between her giggles that he’d always loved, as they were rare coming from her in his company, she replied, “you’re such a freak. No. I was looking up more on that triple goddess symbol that was left by Elijah’s compulsion.”

Definitely not his idea of keeping their minds on something else, but perhaps Google knew something that the rest of them didn’t. He would humor her findings, but then he would demand they get under her sheets. The backs of his eyelids were calling. This scotch was delightful.

Oblivious to his inner monologue, Hayley continued, “Inadu wanted us to see it. I feel like we are sitting on this huge clue and nothing is making any sense outside of the fact that Hope is a tribreed. That’s the only obvious correlation I can find.”

“I have an idea. Let us go to bed and sleep on your findings, and discuss them in the morning, hmm?” Without waiting for an answer, he stood and took back his bottle of scotch, taking a gulp on the way to her room.

He was just settling into the bed when she called for him.

“What?!” he asked sharply.

“You better get dressed,” she said, appearing in the doorway, “Caroline texted. Ada told Henry about the video from earlier and he’s gone after Hope.”

Klaus stared longingly at the scotch bottle, muttering to himself, “That damn idiot.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

Ch. 5  
Song Rec: “Devour” by Marilyn Manson

 

* * *

 

The air was stiff and cool, a hint of rain in the wind; sharp and musky like the earth became when dampened. Klaus breathed heavily but silently, zipping through the woods at high speed. They knew where Hope was, Bruno showed them before. It had taken everything inside of Klaus to turn around and leave his daughter there that day. He’d barely gotten a glimpse of her before he had to leave. For her protection, it was better he not come in with fangs and claws on the ready. Instead, he had been forced to hold onto this one small hope that his brother was somewhere inside of that man and that he cared enough to fight for his family.

Hayley approached the back of the cabin as Klaus crept towards the front. If Elijah was listening, he would surely hear the wild beats of their hearts. They were both well practiced in the art of stealthy hunting, but it was the wolf side that made knowing their child was in danger that much harder. That sort of bond was something that nipped ferociously inside.

“I just want to see her, please,” Henry’s voice sounded out through the trees. Klaus stepped forward, just missing the bed of dead leaves that would have surely given him away. He could make out the dark head of hair and a chunk of it missing. That’s right, the stitches. Klaus sure did get him good. Ada was right to be furious if she were a good daughter.

“A good daughter indeed,” he muttered aloud, hearing her crash noisily through the woods. Idiocy must run in the family. He counted to three, feeling that was sufficient timing in flashing to intercept before she came too close. Hayley could handle this.

Coming to a sudden halt in front of Ada, he clamped his hand over her mouth, stifling her gasp. With wide and warning eyes, he slowly put a finger to his lips until she nodded before he released her mouth. She looked desperately over his shoulder, a panic written all over her pretty features. Marvelous, now he had to play hero and make sure the girl didn’t get killed as well. Hope’s friends would have to be scouted and hand picked by himself when they start anew in New Orleans. The friends he okay-ed would be smart and loyal to their family. It seemed the latter was true thus far in Ada, but the former was yet to be determined…

Leaning close, he said in a breath of a whisper, “do not move.” He felt her shiver, raven hair brushing at his face. He smelled her fear. She was terrified for her father. Considering his options, Klaus decided to move back into position, leaving Ada frozen in fear just out of view.

Elijah’s voice caused Klaus’s throat to tighten. He longed for that voice and the comfort it brought in the past, yet now he also despised it. All he could hear were his brother’s words on the video speaking of how he would show Hope what it was like being with a vampire. Do you consent to going further? The camera was turned off after that. Klaus’s stomach turned violently at the thought of what could have transpired next.

“Who else is with you?,” Elijah asked in a bored and crisp tone. He began rolling up his sleeves in neat jerks. That was never a good sign. Elijah didn’t like getting his clothes soiled by a kill if he could avoid it. Klaus squinted beyond the scene, looking to see if Hayley understood. Their eyes met and she nodded. He would be the decoy and she would get Henry the fool out of there. If Ada were smart, she wouldn’t move a muscle until then.

“Nobody is with me, I’m just a friend of Hope’s and I’m worried about her. I just wanted to see her,” Henry pleaded, hands unsteady as he raised them in a sign of submission.

Elijah looked him up and down with narrowed eyes, calling over his shoulder, “Hope, you have visitors.”

Klaus glanced again at Hayley. She closed her eyes in defeat. Elijah didn’t make mistakes, if he said visitors then he knew they were all there. It was a warning.  
With Hope in the crossfire, the options became even more limited.

It took it all, everything, not to flash over to Hope when she stepped outside. So beautiful and so familiar, even though he had not witnessed her grow up, that girl was still there. He saw it in her face, her eyes like her mother’s and regal expression she had mastered as a child. Klaus’s arms ached to hold her. He wanted to breathe in her scent, feel the texture of her hair through his fingers. He wanted to make sure she never had a reason to look so terrified again.

Hope’s eyes went wide and hand flew to her mouth when she saw Henry.

“Who is this man?” Elijah asked her.

Hope’s voice so grown up now, and so much warmer in person. She replied when she reached Elijah’s side, “he’s my best friend’s dad.”

Henry made the mistake of speaking out of turn, his words breaking at the end, “Are you okay?”

Klaus heard Ada shift loudly behind him when Elijah’s hand shot out to wrap around Henry’s throat. Luckily her thrashing was drowned out by Hope’s protest. He watched Hope grab Elijah’s wrist with both hands and yell at him to stop. He saw the intent in Elijah’s eyes, what followed was purely instinct.

“Enough, brother,” Klaus called, stepping out of hiding.

“Ah,I was hoping it would be you. Klaus is it?” Elijah released his grip on Henry who crumpled to the ground, gasped noisily for air. Hope stooped down, checking on him as Klaus approached closer. Her hair was less like fire and more like dark honey, Klaus ached and ached for her. It was torturous, this unmet desire to once again hold her again.

When Hope glanced up, he was mere steps from being close enough to reach out and touch her.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he murmured, emotion overcoming him; burning tears and trembling hands.

“Dad…” she whispered, standing unsteadily. She was as tall as her mother now and just as uniquely beautiful. Far more enchanting in person than in any photo.

Elijah stepped between father and daughter, his dress shoe pinning Henry to the ground. Klaus was uncomfortably close to Elijah. All it would take was one swift movement and he could take him out. If only Elijah wasn’t linked to Hope. Klaus felt a crawling rage towards those who were failing him in completing the unlinking spell.

“Unless you have come with what Inadu seeks, then you have made a grave mistake. You see, as charming and…obedient…your daughter is, I still have little say in what happens here. I do know that your actions will not go unpunished,” Elijah droned on. Klaus wished he hadn’t downed so much scotch, it took slightly longer to think one step ahead of someone when you’re thinking two steps slower. But then, he hadn’t been aware this Henry was such a bloody moron.

Klaus tried a new approach, appealing to the logic in Elijah. He couldn’t use an emotional angle, which was fine. Logic he could do.

“I know your memory is lacking, but I would like to take this moment to remind you that while I am your brother, I will hurt you in ways unimaginable if you put your teeth into my child again.”

A slow smile spread across Elijah’s face, rendering him nearly unrecognizable to Klaus. Familiarity was gone from those bark colored eyes and so was the kindness.

Without looking at her, Elijah asked, “Hope sweetheart, did it hurt when I drank from you?” Klaus’s eyes flicked over Elijah’s shoulder to meet Hope’s. She blinked away, a redness creeping up her cheeks.

“No. He’s never hurt me,” she spoke softly. Klaus wished he could take away her embarrassment but didn’t know how to address it. Of course it hadn’t hurt when Elijah fed on her because she had fed on him first. It was already trickling into her system, igniting her senses, telling her that it was okay to feel so good about the pull of blood from her veins. It had been one of Elijah’s favorite activities after turning. Klaus learned from him, after all. It had been their first taste of real power. Knowing that just their blood and abilities could inflict so much on their victims. He shook away the memories. No sense in looking back.

Elijah shrugged with a smirk, “So you see, I will return her to you unharmed as soon as you bring Inadu’s pieces to me.”

“Without a body to inhabit, where do you think Inadu will go? How can I be sure you aren’t keeping Hope safe just so that creature can take over her body once more?”

After a long pause, Klaus felt he could hear the ancient wheels in his head cranking around. Finally, Elijah replied into the cool night, “Hope will return to you as herself and unharmed when Inadu returns. You have my word.”

“I’m not sure how much your word is worth, but I imagine you want to continue living. Kindly remove your foot from Henry here, and we will be on our way,” Klaus murmured in acceptance.

Elijah stepped back, standing aside Hope once more. Klaus didn’t like the way Elijah put his hand on Hope’s shoulder, thumb running slightly up and down her collar bone. She wouldn’t look Klaus in the eye, instead focusing her attention on Henry. Klaus was about to tell Hope goodbye once more, but Elijah interrupted with a cluck of his tongue.

“I believe I mentioned that this act will not go unpunished. So you leave here tonight with a choice, Klaus Mikaelson.” It was strange hearing Elijah call him anything but Niklaus.

He continued, “I punish you by feeding on Hope tonight…among other things. Or I punish her by having you kill the man of the hour, Henry.”

Hope immediately protested, “No! Dad!”

Without thought, Klaus turned to Henry and snapped his neck.

“Do not touch her again,” Klaus said softly over Ada’s screams.

There was no choice.

 

* * *

 

 

“How is she?” Hayley asked softly, her eyes still on Klaus. He was draped over a chair, eyes closed and knee bouncing with unspent energy. They were at the school waiting in the psychiatrist’s office, kids coming and going down the creaky old stairs to their classes with laughs and chatter. Luckily Dr. Shelton was in town this week and had offered her services to the school when she heard of Hope’s disappearance.

Caroline whispered, “Not great. She’s alone now, no clue where her mother ran to all those years ago. Ada wants Klaus dead.”

“Yeah,” Hayley sighed, “I think many have shared her sentiment at one point or another. But she has to understand…” Hayley trailed off, realizing she was trying to justify murder. Thing was, if it had been Hayley presented with the choice, she couldn’t say she’d have chosen any differently. After Elijah dragged a screaming Hope inside by both arms, and Klaus flashed away with Henry’s body, Hayley had dragged an inconsolable Ada at a snail’s pace all the way back to the school. It broke Hayley’s heart every time Ada had to stop to throw up between wrenching sobs.

Caroline perked up and waved at the woman walking into the large room. It used to be the library but now it doubled as the psychiatric unit and infirmary. There was unfortunately a great need for both here as Hayley had seen many kids come and go through this school with stories that would break your heart.

“Hello, sorry I’m running behind. So good to see you again Hayley,” Dr. Shelton greeted her with a warm handshake and calm smile. Caroline had suggested that Hayley and Klaus go talk with the therapist about Hope. Hayley knew Caroline was tired of avoiding any topics surrounding some of the things Hayley had not yet shared with Klaus. That, and everyone was walking on eggshells around the fact that Klaus was likely hanging on by a thread and hiding it behind controlled rage. It was his scariest state and Hayley was dealing with it on her own. No Elijah to intervene, no Rebekah. Not even Kol or Freya. All hands were on deck and somehow Klaus was now hers to tame.

Baby Momma duties.

Hayley let Caroline take over with the introductions, as she took to twisting her studded earring round and round with pent up nervousness. Hayley didn’t know how Klaus was going to respond to what Dr. Shelton had to say, but Hayley imagined it wouldn’t be all rainbows and sunshine when they left here. The doctor seemed unfazed by Klaus’s gruff greeting and look of disapproval as they followed her to the sitting area.

“I’ll be in my office if anyone needs me,” Caroline announced too brightly, her eyes darting nervously towards Klaus. Hayley didn’t blame her for worrying. The doors shut behind her with a loud thud and squeaky clank of the old doorhandles. The room grew quiet, save for Klaus’s fingers tapping incessantly on the arm of the couch they had sat on opposite ends of.

“I understand you saw Hope yesterday,” Dr. Shelton began. The woman was extremely old, maybe three hundred or so, but appeared to be no more than in her early sixties. Short ice blond hair that curved just under her ears and large gray eyes that extended a friendly appearance. It was always interesting to Hayley that some witches were able to slow down the aging process but it often begged the question of how. Hope told her there was a balance to every spell and that the doctor probably ate little children for supper and bathed in their youthful blood. Hope read too many of her family’s old books.

Hayley cleared her throat after it was apparent that Klaus wouldn’t be looking up from his lap, “Yes, she looked healthy and sounded calm. At first.”

Silence again except for a loud sneeze from in the hall. Caroline’s voice caroled from beyond the shut doors, “No, no Jimmy, you can’t go in there now, there’s a session. Go upstairs and fetch Lizzie, she’ll help you.”

Klaus sighed long and heavy, flexing his fingers as if in pain and gnawing at his lower lip.

Dr. Shelton hummed in understanding, and asked, “How do you feel she responded to Henry’s death?”

Klaus threw his hands up and replied, tone dipped thickly in sarcasm, “Oh she was just ecstatic. Overcome with joy. What sort of question is that?”

“Klaus-” Hayley warned, Dr. Shelton interrupting with another soft hum. She unclicked her pen and set it aside with the leather bound notebook she was always jotting in during past sessions.

Sitting forward, the doctor spoke soothingly to Klaus, “I understand your feelings, but you must understand that while these questions seem obvious, the answers aren’t always as such. I gather Hayley has filled you in on Hope’s diagnoses of borderline personality disorder?”

“Yes, and the weak criteria you base your diagnosis on,” Klaus muttered, flicking something off his shirt. Dr. Shelton returned the notebook to her lap, the pen clicking loudly back into position. Her scrawls were quick and sure, bracelets clanking tinnily.

When she glanced back up, she made sure Klaus was looking back at her before continuing. Hayley really liked this woman.

“I assure you, I have spent hours in this room speaking with your daughter from the time she arrived here nearly a decade ago up until a few days before her disappearance. If there is anyone you can trust to give you some insight as to who Hope is and how best to proceed in this unfortunate situation, it is me. I know who you are and I know what you are capable of, but I care about my patients no matter the risks involved.”

Klaus flashed a forced smile that only pulled at his tense jaw, and replied lightly, “very well then. Do explain to me what everyone else is afraid to. Explain why this diagnosis and what it means for our…situation, as you put it.”

Dr. Shelton offered a small nod, diving in immediately, “This disorder is a tricky diagnosis as it presents itself in much the same ways other personality disorders and mental illnesses do. The good news is that it is highly treatable and many patients have long periods of remission. The bad news is that certain stressors can cause numerous symptoms to return. It’s because it is their survival mode. It’s what is normal to them in threatening situations or in what they believe to be so. There are a total of nine diagnostic criteria and only five need to be met to reach an official diagnosis.” She swallowed and glanced down at her notes, “Hope has met eight.”

Hayley had to stand up and walk over to a window. It was better than watching Klaus react to the words. So long she had kept this part of Hope’s life as quiet as possible. Wasn’t it bad enough that Klaus had to live apart from his family, why should she have made it worse by telling him his absence had broken Hope? All that trauma from Inadu in New Orleans and losing her father with little warning…it had devastated them all.

It felt like a stab in the gut with each criteria the doctor listed. Hayley’s eyes closed when Klaus’s breaths turned to shudders. He was upset. Of course he was. She could only hope he didn’t blame her. She couldn’t bare to hear him say the words she’s said to herself; she should have been able to do better than this.

“When were you going to tell me?”, Klaus asked, his voice all over the place and much too loud.

She flinched and stared at a bird swimming in a shallow puddle outside, “I didn’t know how.”

He sounded enraged, his tone familiar, “You don’t think me knowing our daughter is prone to self harming behaviors was important information to have? Perhaps I would have chosen differently last night had I known she was so fragile.”

Hayley watched the bird fly away, ripples left behind in the puddle. “She’s not fragile. She doesn’t want to die. Dr. Shelton made great progress with her after her failed attempt. It’s the relationship issues that linger. It’s the paranoia that everyone is out to get her that remains. It’s the fear that one day she’ll be all alone so she seeks someone who will stay while pushing away the ones who have never left.”

Turning around she continued, “I think killing Henry is far less damaging than what Elijah can do to her.”

“Easy for you to say. It is not you she will hate forever for sealing her ex lover’s fate,” he spat. Shifting angrily off the couch he stalked over. She didn’t move when he put his hands heavily on her shoulders, settling closely on either side of her neck. Maybe he would snap it and take over from here. Hayley could never be sure. That was why cuddling in the bed and blood sharing were the worst of ideas, but maybe she understood her daughter more than she admitted. Didn’t she like the uncertainty?

Elijah becoming to Hope what Henry and Mr. Brandon were to Hope, would be the worst thing for her. The absolute worst thing. Blood sharing with Elijah would confuse Hope and she was already in an uncertain environment. Henry had to die. Hayley didn’t care what it meant about herself to admit that. Becoming a hybrid and raising a teenage girl in this dangerous world meant making these decisions and Hayley didn’t mind making them any longer. She did what she had to.

Hayley turned back to the window, shaking his hands off of her and watched the wind rustle the tall grass outside.

Dr. Shelton spoke up from her chair, “Hayley, it might be a good time to take a seat and explain to Klaus why you feel he made the right choice in killing Henry. You mentioned in our sessions about your past and I feel this would be a pivotal moment to finally share.”

Hayley spun around so fast she knocked into Klaus before stumbling back. If he hadn’t thrust his hand forward to grab her by the elbow, she might have toppled over.

“No. That’s private,” she said sharply, her heart roaring in her ears and cheeks flaming red. She felt Klaus’s eyes on her even though she refused to look at him.

She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her building tears as the therapist just proves to him that he was right. That he could have done better with Hope.

“Shall we pick this up another day?” Klaus suggested after a long silence.

“Of course, I’ll be in town as long as you need. I would very much like to be kept informed of Hope’s safe return soon,” Dr. Shelton said, standing to see them out.

Hayley didn’t pause, just gathered her purse and walked so quickly to the car, she didn’t even hear Caroline call out her name. Klaus would likely stay here and stew before coming for her. Before laying into her all over again like when he first got here.

She cranked the car and put it into drive, the air blasting from before. Hayley turned it down and sped up, wanting Jackson’s whiskey and the darkness under her covers more than reality right now. A flash and thud caused her to screech to a halt. Klaus had sped in front of the car and thrown his hands down on the hood, stopping her from moving any further.

“What the hell are you doing?!” she exclaimed out the window.

“Did you expect me to walk all the way home?” he asked, sliding into the passenger seat.

“You dented the hell out of my car,” she gestured, shaking her head.

He leaned forward to look through the windshield and shrugged, “Buy a new one.” It was just like him to destroy something and suggest it simply be replaced. Hayley got more attached to things than that. Even if it was just a car, it held memories. Good and bad, but they were hers and she knew how quickly they became lost in time.

They remained silent the rest of the way home, listening to the wind whipping against the car and the oldies station. A storm had been brewing and Hayley wondered if Hope had any part in it. The kid summoned a four day thunder and lightning display when an incident angered her in the fourth grade. A boy had drawn a picture of Klaus eating all the children and made sure it got back to Hope. At least I didn’t kill him. That’s what Hope had said after lightning struck his home and it burned to the ground. Hayley never told anyone.

“That woman had lipstick on her teeth,” Klaus said when they arrived. Hayley had to roll her eyes. The apple really did not fall far from the tree. Hope had become fixated on that same fact. As if the doctor’s physical appearance were an indicator of how well she could do her job. Hayley knew he was trying to make her smile or lighten the mood. Or maybe he really was irritated by the lipstick. Who knows. Hayley just wanted to down a bottle of something strong and sleep until tomorrow.

Before she could make it into the house, Klaus spun her around on the porch. He needed to stop doing that, it made her feel powerless and that was something she didn’t like to feel.

“Don’t touch me right now,” she warned, eyes flashing amber. He looked away, hurt maybe. It was hard to tell.

“Look. I need to go back and talk to Caroline about what happened yesterday,” he said softly. Klaus added when she said nothing, “I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

She shrugged and tried turning back towards the door. He again put his hands on her and forced her to face him. Hayley jabbed him in the stomach with her keys, puncturing through his skin with ease.

“I said don’t touch me.”

Klaus hissed in pain, “What in the bloody hell?”

She added thickly, “You should stay there tonight.”

Touching the small wound gingerly, he murmured, “Is that what you want?”

“Yeah.”

He blinked away, his sharp jawline and golden stubble catching the setting sun’s glint. “Very well.”

Klaus flashed by quickly, Hayley left standing alone with her hand still held out, fingers wrapped around the bloody keys.

 

* * *

 

 

Bruno’s brown fur was soaked in her tears but Hope couldn’t stop. Rosine still hadn’t returned and Elijah remained tucked away in his room after she had thrown a vase at him. Hope couldn’t figure out who she was angrier at, Elijah for the punishment or her father for executing it. That was the Klaus everyone talked about. Not the sweet guy who gave her so many sweets it would have given a human child diabetes, but the murderous maniac who literally did not care who stood in his way when it came to getting what he wanted.

Henry was dead and Ada was left without a family. Hope ruined everything she touched. She really did. What she wouldn’t fucking do for her stash of pills right now. Three of them crushed up and in her nose and she’d be sleeping straight through the guilt and pain. She wouldn’t have to feel all of this. She wouldn’t have to clutch her stomach from sobbing too hard while she replayed the image of her mother tackling Ada to the ground as she screamed for Henry.

Hope squeezed the object that Henry had pushed into her hand when he was on the ground. She knew he had risked his life to get it to her and she wondered if her father had even known that. If he had, would he have killed Henry? Probably.

When Ada found Hope in bed with her father that horrible night two years ago, they had to find a way to communicate in secret. Hope was desperate about not losing him and since she had lost Ada, it felt that much more desperate. Henry had spelled the little glass ravens, one for each of them. She knew he wasn’t alive anymore, but maybe if she held it tonight, she’d find him somewhere in her dreams.

A soft knock sounded at her door. Did he ever give up? He was lucky she couldn’t boil his blood with her mind right now. With them unlinked by Vincent, she could hurt Elijah if she had the upper hand.

“Go away,” she mumbled. When he didn’t listen, and barged right on in, Hope let out a frustrated growl.

“I brought you your dinner.” He placed a plate of some sort of bean and rice mixture on the nightstand. She threw it at the wall with all her strength. The plate cracked in half, leaving a dent in the striped wallpaper. Bruno hopped down and the sounds of his sloppy licks filled the otherwise silent and still room.

Hope kept her tear swollen eyes pointed at Bruno even though she sensed Elijah looking at her. The mattress creaked when he sat on the edge. She thought about the dagger sitting in the bathroom and how it might feel to shove it into his back, twisting the handle and watching the life drain out. Then again, Hope had no clue what the dagger would do. Vincent expected her to stab her Uncle with it and he didn’t even say why or what would happen. Just that she had to do it before the full moon. So that meant it either lost its power after then or something was going to happen.

Elijah sucked in a breath and said through an exhale, “I am sorry for your loss. I feel I need to remind you that I am not in control all the time. I also do not know your father well enough to have known he would kill your friend.”

Vincent had told her she needed to talk to Aunt Freya. Hope decided the only way to make her move and make these choices was to talk to the only family members she could. That meant getting back into the dream realm and bringing the compelled away Uncle Elijah with her. They would have to drink each other’s blood again. It could work. The glass raven in her hand would open up that sort of magic, but she needed something to open up herself. The blood worked before so it had to work again.

Hope did what she had to.

“Elijah, I know it’s not your fault that my dad killed Henry.” Hope actually believed what she was saying because in this case, she blamed herself.

He turned his head, looking with calculating eyes. Hope bit her lip and tried to appear less pissed off towards his part in it and more pitiful about the outcome.

It wasn’t hard because she felt lower than devastated at this point.

Hope leaned forward and placed her hand over his, “I don’t want to be alone right now. Could you…lay with me?”

“Yes, of course,” he replied. Hope figured the best way to play her hand was to play on his guilty conscience. She figured whether with his memories or not, that part of his personality definitely remained.

Even though Elijah shed his coat and stepped out of his shoes, he remained clothed and kept his distance in the bed. Hope lay on her side, peering at his profile. He needed to shave but she liked the shadowy hint of a beard along his angular jawline. It was strange that she never knew how she felt with him. She was angry but also understood being powerless against forces that made you do really horrible things. Hope was also plagued by the past bond with her Uncle.  
That didn’t just disappear and out of a family promise of Always and Forever, it was important she protect him too. This wasn’t the man she grew up knowing and hearing about, this was a version of him none of them knew; she had to keep reminding herself because bonds and emotions were all she had access to right now. She couldn’t protect Henry but this much she could do for Uncle Elijah. Hope had to ask her Aunt Freya what this dagger would do and what Vincent had to do with it all.

“Tell me about that woman you left in France. Edith,” Hope murmured, her heart thumping when he rolled his head to look at her.

Bruno stopped licking up the spilled food and let out a belch. Hope smiled when Elijah blanched.

“Disgusting creatures,” he mumbled, though he had a grin twitching at his lips. His eyes seemed to scan her features, settling a little too long on her smile. She noticed, but then she was watching for this sort of thing. Hope usually relied on her inner magic to tell her what someone felt towards her, but she was weakened here. So now, she had to pick up on what he unknowingly shared through his mannerisms and responses.

He answered her in that calming tone that harbored a hint of an accent and whole lot of intelligence, “I was playing with the jazz band late one night. The room was alive; I felt alive. People were dancing and laughing, it reminded me of when I was young and only cared for music and a warm body to lay with each night.”

Elijah paused in thought, a relaxed grin morphing his usual stern expression.

“What instrument were you playing?” Hope asked. Bruno whimpered at the thunder rolling in. She had been calling out with her sorrow, and as usual, nature responded. It was an ability that made Aunt Freya uncomfortable towards her, Hope had felt that from her very young.

He plucked one of her hands from off the mattress, extending her fingers by running his underneath.

“Piano,” he replied, examining her hand that lay palm to palm with his.

He sucked in a breath, gently lacing his fingers with hers. He asked, “you have great hands for music, do you play?”

“I can play guitar but I sing. Finish your story,” she urged.

He smiled and continued, “She was dancing alone, sloshing her beer around with the biggest smile on her face. A beautiful face too. Divine. I bought her a drink and we talked into the morning. I fell for her instantly.”

Hope bit her lip before asking, “Can I lay against you? I’m having trouble calming down after everything.”

Elijah opened his arms until she had settled her cheek on his chest. It felt good, there was no denying it. He smelled like she remembered but better. Even without her wolf curse ignited, Hope could scent people and feelings almost as good as her parents.

Now Hope had to figure out how to approach blood sharing without seeming like she was trying too hard. Or maybe that would work in her favor. Horny teenage girl craves blood; sounded like a twisted porno flick. No, she would be ignoring how her body responded. What she was after was the mind altering effects so that she could talk to Aunt Freya and Uncle Elijah about what to do with the dagger.

His hand was warm on her back and he didn’t protest when she rested her thigh across him, laying like he was her body pillow from her room. She heard the pick up in his heartbeat and breathing. Hope was either making him nervous or very interested. This was likely her only window of opportunity.

“Could you do something for me?” Hope asked softly.

His hand crept up to the nape of her neck, fingers tangling into curls. He replied, “What is it you desire?” God that would sound like such a cheesy and horrible line if it were anyone else saying it. Elijah said it and she was a puddle. He oozed confidence and intelligence; an alluring image of youth hiding the ancient man beneath.

“I want some of your blood. It made me feel better before,” she admitted, dragging her nails lightly down his chest.

He didn’t answer but he did bite into his palm, feeding her once more. Hope found that she liked the flavor, it was the strangest thing. His fingertips felt hot against her hairline as she lapped at the wound. She gasped when he sank his fangs into her neck; it felt so goddamn good. It was a heat that spread down her throat and stung into her peaked nipples, yanked at her belly, and bloomed between her thighs.

Hope hated herself for the way it felt when he unlatched and murmured with a coated tongue, “your father would kill me over the way you are making me feel.” She hated herself but also felt that familiar tug of curiosity and wave of sexual need that had only grown through the years. It’s what surfaced time and again, making men like Henry and Jonathon the medicine to her pain.

“I’ll protect you,” was all she said before they both fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

This dream realm was Henry’s. It felt cold and empty without him. Strange seeing Aunt Freya and Uncle Elijah standing under the large weeping willow tree instead of Henry, waiting with his crooked smile and mop of black hair.

Now, instead of this being her happy place to escape to, it was quickly turning into a place she wanted to bolt from. Aunt Freya was visibly upset that Uncle  
Elijah was there. Hope couldn’t understand why, but she was smart enough to at least hold off on sharing anything in front of him. Instead, Hope continued to argue.

“You’ve spent much longer serving my parents and bonding with them than Uncle Elijah. How do I know for sure that the dagger isn’t going to kill him?”

Aunt Freya looked stunned and hurt, but recovered quickly with her mask of indifference. Hope had mastered the same look by watching her through the years.

“Niece, I assure you that Elijah will remain safe. It is you that you need to worry about. Leave the dagger behind after you stab him, and run. Go somewhere far from New Orleans. Wherever you stop for the night, use the raven Henry left for you and I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

“Tell me now,” Hope replied, crossing her arms over her chest and raising her chin in defiance.

Elijah interjected sharply, “Listen to your aunt. Stab him and run. You must trust your family.”

“You’re my family too and you don’t know everything,” Hope reminded him. Uncle Elijah didn’t know about Vincent or that Aunt Freya was obviously not going to bring that part up. Aunt Freya didn’t want Uncle Elijah here and hadn’t wanted him to know anything. There was a reason for that.

If her dad would kill Henry without so much as a second to weigh the consequences just to keep her safe, wouldn’t he kill Elijah too? Always and Forever until someone crosses you. Hope learned that young. It was incredible what she watched and picked up on and it’s like they never even noticed she was there. Their conversations echoing through the house or journals left wide open begging to be read. Hope had been sneaky and snoopy but weren’t all kids? It’s certainly not her fault that none of them had a clue about child rearing or that she had a photographic memory and a knack for good hiding spots.

A side to Uncle Elijah Hope hadn’t really seen stepped forward. His finger was pointed at her while the other hand sat at his hip, eyes set in a no-nonsense glare. He spoke very slowly as if she were dense, “I know enough. You will not worry about saving him, I don’t not want him saved. Stab him and you run.”  
Hope slapped his finger out of her face, shocking him. His jaw dropped slightly and he took a step back, tugging at his suit in obvious discomfort. She almost felt bad.

“I will not let my father kill you like he killed Henry. It isn’t your fault. Memories or not, you have never hurt me.”

Elijah folded his arms and turned away from her. She could tell he was angry or frustrated, probably both.

Aunt Freya stepped in, “You don’t have to worry about saving him. Once you put the dagger in, it will draw out Inadu, that’s all. Just leave it there and run. Elijah is an original and will be fine.”

“I think it’s time I start fighting like a Mikaelson. If there’s one thing I learned from my family it’s that no crimes against us go unpunished.” She leaned forward menacingly, “and I can get really creative.” She directed the rest at Freya while staring at the fake wind blowing the drooping willow branches, “Whatever it is you are planning…I’d reconsider.I have my own plans now.”

Hope knew how to exit this realm from outside unlike in the one Aunt Freya had created. When her eyes popped open, Elijah’s were still closed. She nudged him awake. Couldn’t have Aunt Freya and Uncle Elijah in there talking without her. There wasn’t much time to spare. One last task.

 

* * *

 

“Where is Hayley?” Caroline asked as Klaus lowered himself into the chair facing her desk. He plucked the nameplate and stared at the embossed reminder that he and Stefan had the same taste in women. He and the late Salvatore shared the same taste in many areas. Difference was, Stefan ripped his way through history and still came out a hero. Klaus, born to play the part of villain, and villain he has remained.

“Home,” he grunted.

“She seemed upset when you left,” Caroline pressed. He noted her eyes flick towards his shirt. The blood was still drying even after the long walk here. He had left Hayley her car in case she needed to do something other than pout into her shitty wine tonight. A twinge of guilt reminded him that she hurts the same as he. Only Hayley knew the pain of this close to the same way as he.

Klaus sunk down in the chair, forgetting for a moment what he had originally come here for. Luckily, Caroline remembered for him.

“So,” she said in a high pitched tone, “you two seemed a little thirsty before. Better now?”

He couldn’t help but smile at her approach, answering, “jealousy suits you, love.”

She rolled her eyes and dropped her chin heavily on her propped palm, manicured fingers curling around her cheek. “I wish it were just jealousy, but it’s mainly concern. Seems like…well a really weird way to cope. Doing to her what Elijah did to Hope is…unsettling.”

“If that was my intent, I would have to agree with you.”

“Okay…so why then?”

Klaus considered her for a moment. The way she looked at him you’d think she had walked in on him sawing off Hayley’s arms whilst whistling the tune to a Stephen King film.

“I wanted to ensure she wouldn’t choose saving Elijah’s life over any plans I made surrounding Hope’s rescue. I wanted her to feel that no matter how emotionally unstable everyone claims my daughter is, even the strongest willed would have a hard time fighting what blood sharing with an Original can do.  
You may not like my methods but I do not like wasting time when it comes to my daughter.”

“You don’t think just asking Hayley to be on your side would have worked?”

Klaus pursed his lips, replying, “I think not. While she knows Hope in ways I do not and conveniently leaves things out, she only proves to be untrustworthy.”

Caroline let out a frustrated groan, standing to pace around the small office. Why was her office smaller than Alaric’s? Klaus did not donate all that money for him, it was for her. Perhaps a bit for Stefan too. And maybe for the students.

She practically shrieked, “I would leave things out too if I were her. Do you hear yourself? She holds back some hard stuff because she’s protecting Hope -and hell, maybe even protecting you. Not because she’s untrustworthy. Always so paranoid, always assuming the worst in someone!”

Klaus decided not to point out that Hayley had once said nearly the same thing. Though, it was hardly a secret that he trusted no one. History was a great teacher and it had taught him that every person would show you who they are over and over if only you pay attention.

Caroline gestured towards his bloodied abdomen, “And I would have stabbed you too if it seemed like you had even one bad thing to say about my parenting. Do you know how hard it is to parent these days?!”

“Alright, I see your point. If you must know, I had every intention on apologizing to her for some things I may have said to insinuate such. But, it is rather hard to execute a decent apology when someone is doing everything they can to avoid it.”

“Well did you think that maybe she thought she was avoiding your wrath rather than something kind of out of character like an apology?”

Klaus clenched his jaw and closed his eyes in intense concentration. Did nobody see that he was hanging on by a thread here? Did nobody care that he had just faced soul crushing truths about Hope and that he still smiled at the small children on his way inside the school? Even after being carved like a pumpkin with a dull set of keys. All of this personal growth to keep the people he cared about happy, yet what did it bring himself? A headache.

“Stop with that glower and go back to Hayley’s. There is no news, Freya is still under in hopes the communication talisman Henry brought Hope will be used. Plus, Ada is staying in Stefan’s old room and she is in no state to see you now or ever again.” Caroline sounded angry with him. So Hayley thought it a good idea he offed Henry and Caroline not so much. There was no winning in the game of hurt feelings, there was only what was right and what was wrong for Hope’s survival. Again, he was wasting time.

Klaus needed to be with Hayley right now whether she wanted him around or not. He hated to admit it to himself but he missed his brother’s calm and sure voice of reason because becoming that for himself had proven to be a bitch of a task. He needed Hayley like he needed Hope. It was hard to put into words. He didn’t know what the fuck he was thinking or feeling. It was only getting worse, as it often did, the closer the full moon neared. Even without transitioning, the moon called to the wolves, beckoning for them to bare their teeth.

 

* * *

 

Hayley shouldn’t have stabbed Klaus but he should have listened to her. What she really needed to figure out how to talk to him about was Hope’s symptom Hayley feared more in this situation. Two symptoms actually. The paranoia and then the sexual impulsiveness to cope with it all. Hope was just like her father when backed into a corner. All it took was one stressor and then like dominoes falling, a paranoid spiral where everyone becomes a threat-especially with those loved most. It was something Hayley wasn’t even sure Klaus realized about himself. It was so damn hard. He just couldn’t understand. What was it Dr. Shelton had always said?

You can only meet someone where they’re at.

It was true. If someone wasn’t ready to see or accept a truth, it was impossible to speak to them as if they could. She had to figure out a way to talk to Klaus about their daughter because he did deserve to know everything she knew about Hope. Hayley just wanted to feel safe doing so. She didn’t want to hear how badly she screwed up. She wanted a partner in this, not a competitor.

For whatever reason, the need to self soothe by punishing herself was strong tonight. Hayley pulled out the damn picture albums and drank every last drop of Jackson’s whiskey. Hope had the sweetest chunky cheeks up until puberty hit. She missed her baby. At some point Hayley shed her pants, because the growing moon always made her hot,and drug the guitar out to the porch to strum the two chords she knew. It was so quiet out here. Just the crickets keeping her company like they used to. All she was missing was her sleeping bag and the two outfits she toted around everywhere; one for kicking ass and one for getting free drinks. Hayley smiled at the memories. It hadn’t always been bad being a drifter when she was Hope’s age. She’d met so many people even though Hayley was never good at making any of them stick around. She’d met some bad people too, but Hayley learned young where and how to hit a man, no matter how much stronger he was than she.

“My, my. You are a sight,” Klaus’s voice startled her. Speaking of hitting men. But when he stepped onto the porch and into the light, the last thing she wanted to do was pick an alcohol fueled fight. His shoulders were sagged and hands dangled loosely by his sides, mouth pinched like it always was when he’d been thinking too much. The blood on his shirt reminded her that she had told him to stay away tonight.

Her words felt thick from drinking so damn much as quickly as she had, “Thought I told you not to come back tonight.” So she was bad at holding her tongue. Picking fights was in her nature. It was a full moon tomorrow, it made all the wolves on edge.

Klaus let out a short and stiff sigh, boots scraping lazily across the wood as he approached her. He didn’t say anything, just towered over her as she played the chords over and over, staring at the blood on his shirt and swaying her bare knees so that they brushed against his pants. This reminded her that she was pantsless. Not her fault, she hadn’t been expecting him.

“Are those the only two chords you know?”

“Yep,” she said, strumming them louder.

His voice did that low near growl thing she had always liked and despised in equal parts. He asked, “And will you stop playing them for a moment so we can talk?”

Hayley set the guitar next to her,the wicker creaking underneath her bare legs. She remembered when Hope painted the porch furniture, switching it from the chipping maroon to a vintage mustard yellow. The wind gusted in with a rumble of thunder, jostling the conch shell chimes Hope made out of driftwood and shells collected from the beach on her twelfth birthday. She was everywhere. She was in the kitchen where she left her half eaten sandwiches in the refrigerator next to the peach tea; in the bathroom where her discarded school uniform covered the bathmat; she was in her father’s eyes and expression staring down at Hayley.

“She does that thing with her mouth that you do,” Hayley mumbled, the random memory drifting in from somewhere.

“What’s that?”

“When Hope paints. She sticks her lips out like this-,” Hayley demonstrated. It made him smile but the amusement didn’t reach his eyes. They stayed focused intently on hers. Even through the haze of a good booze buzz, she could tell he wanted to say something he really meant.

He scratched at his chin before holding his hand out to her. “Come on,” he murmured, “let’s get inside.”

“I want to stay and watch Hope’s storm,” she argued, swatting at his hand.

“How much have you had to drink?”

Hayley gestured to the empty whiskey bottle, deciding not to mention that she had half a bottle of wine before that. Being a hybrid sucked. You had to drink a hell of a lot more to feel this numb.

“I see. Do you mind if I sit and watch with you then?”

She patted the spot next to her and focused on the sounds of the bullfrogs glugging their summer night song as Klaus wedged himself beside her. Hayley forgot how snugly she and Hope fit on the chair. Sitting with Klaus was even tighter. It felt nice though, it simply felt better near him. Now, more than ever.

A thick blade of lightning cracked sharply in the distance. Her baby girl was upset.

“It wasn’t the alcohol talking when I called it Hope’s storm,” Hayley said, propping her feet up on the railing. She glanced at his profile and continued, “She can do something with nature. It’s her magic and Freya says it goes beyond her own capabilities.”

“My mother once caused a flood after Henrik passed away. She never cried, but she opened up the sky and we all felt it. I suppose I have caused great suffering in the women who possess such gifts.”

“Why do you say that?”

“It was my fault Henrik died. It was my fault Henry died. History repeats in strange ways, does it not?”

“You tell me, I feel like I’m an infant compared to you,” Hayley shrugged.

“You do look somewhat infantile tonight in your attire. I recall it was quite the nightmare when Hope began to toddle around and shed her britches every moment left unattended.” He smirked when she rolled her eyes.

“You’re lucky I kept my shirt on, I’m pretty sure I’ve sweat straight through it by now. Aren’t you hot?”, Hayley asked, touching his arms with her flaming skin. He felt cool to the touch. Living for so long must have its perks. Hayley envied him of that at least.

“Or unlucky,” he said softly. She was drunk and didn’t catch what he meant until the storm finally came baring down all around the farmhouse. It was a crazy display of whipping limbs as the night sky lit up like a camera flash going off. She could feel the thunder rattle her ribs and the air turned musky with impending rain.

She laid her head at his shoulder and felt him relax beneath the press of her cheek. He lightly draped his arm around her and let out a content sigh. Hayley felt that tug of uncertainty that reminded her Klaus wasn’t always so sweet. Whatever, it didn’t matter. He was sweet right now and she needed him. Her skin was less on fire and her anxieties lower with his body and scent wrapped so close.

“Will you sleep with me again tonight?” Hayley asked, wiggling her toes when the rain blew against them. It felt so good to cool down.  
Klaus tugged her earlobe playfully and said, “I am unsure if you are drunk and phrased that wrong or if you are drunk and phrased that right.”

“I’m drunk and phrased it just fine. When I say sleep, I mean sleep.” She stood and stretched, the underused bones and muscles sounding out their protests. She’d been cooped up for far too long. Noticing the way his eyes trailed too slowly up her body, she cocked her head and added, “If I wanted to fuck I’d just ask you to fuck me.”

“Lead the way…” Klaus smiled, though she could smell the shift in his scent. Hayley decided she’d better lay off the liquor in the future. “But,” he added, “I do wish to speak with you. Preferably when we are both sober.”

All the booze and full moon desires couldn’t prepare her for facing what he was likely going to ask her about. He wanted to know what Dr. Shelton had mentioned about Hayley having a reason she thought Henry should have been killed rather than Elijah blood sharing with Hope. At least she would have one more night with him as things were. After they talked, she doubted they would remain so.

* * *

 

Elijah was acting weird and Hope didn’t like it. When she had woken him up he stared at her with such suspicion and left the room with a coldness to his voice. It kept her up into night. The nearly full moon was just another reminder that she was running out of time. Wasting it here wondering what was going on in Elijah’s head or who out there was really on her side. It seemed like nobody cared that she was not only interested in saving herself but keeping everyone else from dying too. How the hell was she supposed to know what was going on with so many people leaving her in the dark and giving her half truths?

There was only one way Hope knew how to speak to a man who wasn’t interested in talking. She was desperate and needed to figure out her move but she couldn’t do that without his help. Hope needed this Elijah to put his trust in her.

So, she stripped down to nothing and prayed to the gods and goddesses that he would find her attractive enough to discard whatever contempt he held after they fell asleep. He had to have seen or felt something out of place and felt as if she were making some sort of move against him.

She appeared in his doorway, trying to look sexy rather than determined.

“Show me,” Hope demanded, stalking towards him. “Show me your favorite place to feed from. I want you to. I consent.”

His eyes, dark like obsidian, ran down the length of her neck and chest, settling on her bare breasts. So, nudity usually helped her cause. Hope knew he was attracted to her. She felt it even through this muted magic. She felt his regret for Henry because he liked her, not as his niece but as a person. Hope knew that if Inadu wasn’t stirring up trouble inside of him, none of it would have happened. Elijah wasn’t some monster, even without his family. It was simply easier if everyone pretended he were one.

“Come on, what are you waiting for? Sink your teeth into my body. I know you want to,” she seethed, tears building. Out of fear or shame, she didn’t know. Hope wasn’t scared of him but she was scared of what she found herself capable of.

“What were you doing in my dreams?” Elijah asked, eyes snapping up from her breasts to her gaze. Hope swallowed hard. So he remembered that time?

She didn’t even flinch when he flashed over in vampiric speed, grabbing her chin between forefinger and thumb. She had seen him do it a million times with her mother before he used to kissed her. Was that what he intended? To kiss Hope? She blinked up and watched his lips part and lower onto her own. His mouth was warmer than hers, soft too. It reminded her of running her lips along the bottom of a hot cocoa-soaked marshmallow.

“Be careful with me, little girl,” he said against her teeth.

She devoured his kiss, deepening it with a restrained moan and a push of her tongue. She would make him want to help her. He tasted like alcohol and blood.

Hope wondered if a vampire’s mouth always tasted a little like that; copper and wine. She loved it.

Elijah’s tongue slid against her own and she wondered if he fucked the way he kissed; just hard enough to make her teeter between wanting less and more. When his mouth left hers in a slow and sticky smack, she let out a whisper-soft whimper. Her body was so warm, everything sparked awake and alive. Bruno whined from behind the door.

Elijah dropped to his knees, and she realized she was disappointed he hadn’t spent any time with her breasts. Henry had always loved her chest; swirled his tongue around her nipples while he fingered her on top of the kitchen island at home. The memory of Henry only made her feel what she was trying to suppress, so she pushed it away. She concentrated on how disgustingly into her uncle she was right now. Half uncle, Hope reminded herself, as if that fact made this any less monstrous. She was pitifully wet. Throbbing for him. This was why she was convinced she was crazy. She was capable of this. But so was he.

He knew she was his niece even if the bond wasn’t there for him.

His hands gripped her hips and he jerked her forward, his prickly chin pushing into her pulse-thumping naval. Elijah peered up and murmured, “are you sure?”

Hope responded without thinking, anything was better than remembering her sins…remembering what was lost. Hope grabbed his hand and thrust it between her legs, showing him how sure her body was. She felt his fingers reflexively curl into her swollen folds, causing her to clamp her thighs in an involuntary jolt. His eyes darkened and he smiled around his fangs. God he was hot. Part of her yanked in guilt for even thinking it. As if thinking it were worse than his fingers slipping against her.

“It will only hurt for a moment. Do you trust me?” His words formed differently around his fangs. She nodded. Yeah, she trusted him. It was that demon inside of him that was the wild card. But Hope liked the odds. She liked the challenge and the unknown of it all. She liked danger so thick that it masked the drowning sad girl inside.

He returned his hand to her hip, his fingers sticky with her. She watched him over the rise and fall of her breasts,curiosity tingling behind each shuddering inhale. Elijah lowered his mouth, slicing into her skin. It hurt like fire, she yelped in pain and grabbed the back of his head,ready to yank him back, using a fistful of his perfectly placed hair. But then…the pain stopped and she shakily took in the sight of him. Elijah’s fangs were buried in the tuft of her dark honey-hued pubic hair, blood drizzling down the sides of his mouth.

Elijah had expertly position his bite so that his lower lip nestled below her hooded bundle of nerves, catching the flow of blood. She was embarrassingly close to orgasm as he used his tongue to devour her. The sucking sounds the endeavors made were loud and sloppy, but it only made her tremble harder, want it harder. Her knees wobbled as she fought against crying out and letting go.

He made the decision for her, sliding his palms from her hips to cup her ass and bring her closer. His fangs pushed in painfully deep but that was overpowered by his tongue doing things that made her vocal as hell. She didn’t care.

The orgasm was intense, like plucking too hard at a taut guitar string. Hope moaned in between gasping profanities and holding onto his hair like she was driving off a cliff. It was then that she made her decision, things were always clearer once she satiated her needs.

When Elijah unlatched, leaving her in the after-quakes, he stood, dragging his hands up the back of her body to rest at her shoulder blades. His veins and fangs receded, the monster tucking itself away. His mouth was coated with her, swollen wet like watermelon flesh.

She wanted to paint him just like this, he was a goddamn vision.

When Elijah turned to wipe her blood and arousal from his face, Hope grabbed the dagger she had hid in his room earlier. It was still damp from the toilet tank; she tightened her grasp.

He turned right into it, she barely had to do anything at all. The surprise on his face was quickly replaced with vacancy as the life drained out of him. Hope  
watched him for a long time, wondering what would happen when she took the dagger out. The stone was glowing at the end of the handle and she wondered idly why no blood leaked from the wound. Magic was a finicky craft and there was still so much she had to learn if she was going to outsmart and outplay them all. Hope didn’t know who to trust, but with her magic restored, she trusted her instincts. Her instincts told her she needed to take some power for herself. She needed to think smart.

She needed leverage and she needed someone to trust. The dagger seemed like a good place to start and there was only one person Hope trusted would be on her side right now. Hope pulled the dagger out of Elijah’s back, wondering how quickly he would heal. After she sends the video, her parents would know she no longer trusted them. She stood to stare into the camera for a moment, not sure what parting words to leave the man she missed more than anyone. She just needed them to understand. It was not okay to kill someone for her. Consequences would happen.

“That was for Henry,” she said dully into her phone before shutting off the recording.

Hope scrawled a note for Elijah. When he woke, he would know she chose to fight alongside him and for him. He would know to wait for her, she wouldn’t take long.

Nobody called the shots for her life any longer. Nobody got to choose for her.

Hope pressed send on her phone, tucked the dagger into a bag she stole from Rosine, and made her way outside. Henry’s body was gone but she felt him  
there. She felt the fear and disappointment and his love for his daughter in those last moments. Hope let out a frustrated scream, feeling the tethers of sanity fraying under all this uncertainty. Bruno crashed through the woods, wagging his tail and barking. He thought they were going home.

Hope caught up and leaned down to scratch behind his ears, “I’ll walk you half way there you old mutt, but then there’s someone I need to go see.”

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Ch. 6  
Song rec “The Shadows of My Name” by Emma Ruth Rundle

* * *

 

Hayley wanted to sleep in the living room for the night because of the rain on the tin roof. The sound calmed her and Klaus could see why, once he got used to the way it echoed as if his head were stuck inside of a garbage can. He watched Hayley sink further into the couch, lost in thought and absently running her fingers through her chestnut locks. They were cut shorter now. It suited her angular face.

“I like your hair,” he murmured.

She smiled without looking at him, tugging at a strand before replying, “Hope cut it. She said she was tired of me staying the same.” He smiled back, allowing his eyes to retrace the lines of her face. He had an impeccable memory since he became a hybrid so many centuries ago, yet he understood how the mind remolded memories based on emotions tied to them. He remembered her beauty and fiery temper, but he forgot the softness she displayed when they were alone. It was rare that they were alone, but he preferred her company when his soul ached for their daughter. She would always be the only one to understand what it felt like to be Hope’s parent.

“You’re being creepy,” Hayley said between a smile and rheumy eyes that locked onto his.

He sighed and shrugged, “I missed you too, you know. Not just Hope.”  
She rolled her eyes and moved to lay aside him. Klaus found himself grinning at…this. Just having her treat him like someone she could cozy up with through the night and touch with an intimacy that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with this growing need to unite for Hope and for each other. They were taking care of each other in new ways; unexplored and just as provoking.

“Tell me about Henrik. Nobody talks about him,” Hayley said against his neck. Random, but he supposed he did bring Henrik up the last time they laid this closely.

Klaus rubbed his hand up and down her back. It surprised him how normal this felt, their limbs tangled together on the couch and the scent of her whiskey moistened words tickling his stubbled skin.

“He was a little thing. Mother had him too early and father would lay awake all night counting his breaths. Finn took to him as Elijah did to me, protected him and offered counsel for his tempers. All of us were temperate brats, I know it’s hard to believe.”

He smiled when she let out a giggle. Not a little girl giggle, but uniquely hers; sensual but goofy. A little like Tatia’s. A name he hadn’t thought of in quite some time. A love he had never forgotten the sting of. But that girl had had something, and Elijah saw that same something in Hayley first.

She moved her lips higher, brushing at his earlobe, “Did he look like any of you?”

“Oh yes, he looked like all the other Mikaelson boys. I was the only one who didn’t fit into the litter.”

“Did he have their eyes? Elijah and Kol have the same eyes,” Hayley yawned.

He caught her yawn, loud and exaggerated, saying through it, “and same dark hair.”

Bruno jumped up onto the adjacent love seat, his collar jangling. The refrigerator whirred noisily to life, reminding him that he stored some blood bags in there earlier. As fun as it can be blood sharing, he really needed to satiate his hunger in a less distracting manner. With her, it was too intense. Something he would have to address later. Without the filter of some brotherly loyalty, it hardly seemed as daunting task as it once did to face who Hayley was to himself.

“How was everyone towards you after Henrik was killed?”, she asked, her skin flaming hot against him. He put his cool hands up the back of her shirt, earning him a contented sigh. He felt for her hybrid reaction to the moon, he’d forgotten how bad it used to be. It had been like having the flu but with the amped up libido of a twelve year old boy.

“Other than father, only Kol blamed me…out loud anyway. I could see it in their eyes, even Elijah’s. They were trying to spare me more pain I suppose. It was a hard time. Very hard.” Not something he usually shared. But to get her to open up, he knew he must offer the same. He swallowed thickly.

Hayley lifted, propping so that she was peering down at his face. Klaus felt her breasts pressed to his chest and the shift in weight caused his thigh to wedge snuggly between her legs. She didn’t seem to notice, but then, who could tell with her. She was good at masking every emotion with her unblinking gazes.

She studied his face, large eyes settled on lovely cheekbones. He sketched her once, while she was pregnant and curled up on the chaise. Hayley had been reading one of the books Elijah left out for her, he trying to woo her in that old fashioned way that still worked for him. She’d gotten peach juice all over her chin, lips cradling each bite from the squishy fruit. Klaus thought her sexy when he first met her, an easy lay who wouldn’t mind if he bit her tits and pulled her hair. But when he watched her eat that fruit, with his baby blooming inside her swelling stomach, he thought her beautiful. A messy and ornery little wolf girl with lips he could draw from memory. Klaus wanted to give the drawing to her for quite some time, but was afraid it would reveal something intimate…something perhaps he didn’t quite understand or care to explain.

“What are you thinking?” she asked curiously.

He didn’t answer, just reached up and swept her hair behind her ear. If he were brave, he might tell her of that memory of her with the peach. He didn’t like to offer too much of himself to anyone he wasn’t sure would keep it safe. Rejection stung deeply.

Hayley had always been hard for him to get a grasp on. Reading people was his forte, but the girl’s consistent expression of disdain or vacancy when he was in the same room had usually put a very thick barrier between them. Klaus wasn’t one to take the trouble to climb over seemingly unclimbable walls for just anyone. He understood he slighted her in the past. He remembered his hand around her neck, the satisfaction that arose when her eyes bulged in fear, all when

Hope was still inside Hayley’s belly. He remembered every slap and punch on the breezeway in the compound, Hope looking on, diaper crinkling from her unsteady steps, concern in those big blue eyes.

Klaus decided a little honesty wouldn’t hurt. He did just openly share with her about Henrik. That was something that did not come easy.

“I’m thinking of what Dr. Shelton said. I know we have had our trying times together, Hayley, but I would very much like to understand your position on my killing Henry rather than sparing his life. I would assume you feel the same way as I for the same reasons, but I know that would be an incorrect assumption,” he explained, having to talk louder over the rumbling storm.

Hayley rolled her eyes in that way only she could, leaving him to wonder if she was angry or upset.

“I just think the damage of what Elijah could do to her would leave a longer mark than losing someone who wasn’t even good for her.”

“Because…?” He was trying to speak gently but he wasn’t a patient man. He could feel her heart beating faster and the anxiety pricked his senses. It only set him on edge as well. It was hard to explain to others how he could feel what she was feeling since she became a hybrid. It had always been hard to explain to himself. And hell, he would just accept her reasoning if it weren’t for the doctor alluding to some dark harbored stories from Hayley’s past. He understood the need to keep pain to yourself. That’s where it best lived.

“Because I would know. I know what it’s like to lose people and I know what it’s like to have someone I love and trust get it twisted,” she sat up, pushing too hard off his body. He winced but didn’t try and stop her. She didn’t move far though, remaining wedged between the couch and his legs, her chin propped on her bent knees.

“Someone hurt you in a way you are afraid Elijah would hurt Hope…”

She looked at him like he was an idiot. If she were anyone else he’d set her straight and quickly, but he no longer felt the desire to harm her. He could only conclude that it was because he no longer believed she desired to harm him.

Still, she answered, “Yeah. It fucks you up forever. Trust me, I’ve tried everything.” She didn’t cry, though he watched her fingers tremble when she started to fidget with her shirt.

What was that thing Caroline said to him about Hayley not trusting his reaction to things? Klaus sighed when he realized she was right.

“Love, I want you to understand something about me…about who I’ve been to you.” He swallowed hard. So this was harder than he thought. The way she looked at him made him not want to fuck this up. He genuinely wanted to see her happy and in ways he hadn’t considered before. In ways he would want to see his family happy. Happy Christmases and all that.

“I want you to know that I understand why you kept so much from me. Not just about Hope but about yourself. I consider myself a strong and unbeatable man…a-”

“-king?”, she cut in with an arched brow and tiny grin.

“Yes, I crave power and enjoy the fear my name inflicts. But I find no joy in inflicting fear in you or Hope. I am scared of failing you both or that I already have and you are just too frightened of me to take Hope and run for good, like you had planned with Jackson.”

“That’s stupid,” she said with a look of disbelief. “I mean, look at us Klaus. We are fucked up, yeah? But Hope deserves better even if we believe we don’t. She needs you.”

“No, you’re stupid,” he joked softly. It made her smile. Klaus considered Hope for a moment, tightening his grip on Hayley’s sweat dampened skin, “she is hurting and I understand the language she is expressing it, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I do,” Hayley agreed, looking towards the seat from where Bruno began to whimper. The dog was caught in a dream, his paws jerking and snout twitching. “Anyway, is there anything else you wanted to know, because you’ve got me in a rare mood and this probably isn’t happening again. Ever,” Hayley stated, dragging her nails up and down her bare legs.

Klaus figured all he would need is a bottle of whiskey and the pull of a full moon any time he wanted to get her talking about the hard stuff, but he decided not to push his luck. This may very well be the last time they get this kind of chance. He had been around long enough to understand how fleeting time was with those you needed it with the most.

“I want to know more about you Hayley. A lot more.”

“Okay…” she replied slowly. Bruno woke himself in a jolt, sitting up to stare at them as if they were the culprits in his dream. Hayley carefully stood on the couch to step off and let the whining mutt outside. Her footsteps smacked lightly on the planked wood flooring as she moved to the kitchen to poke around the refrigerator.

Klaus threaded his hands behind his head and decided not to waste the view. He loved how natural she became with a bottle of whiskey in her veins. Most improbable that she would have walked around in her black panties and shirt completely sober. This was a treat.

“Why are you smiling…?”, she asked from the kitchen. He watched her flick on the porch lights. Something she’d done every night. The smile faded when he realized it was in case Hope came home while they were sleeping.

“Will you tell me about the life you lived before triggering your werewolf curse?” Klaus decided that would be a good place to start. Knowing her, she would answer in her own way, even if never quite answering the question.

She padded over, a glass of blood in her hand which she thrust towards him before letting Bruno back inside. The room stunk of wet dog as Klaus sipped appreciatively at the nighttime snack. Not nearly as good as from the vein or warmed in the microwave perhaps, but he was hungry enough that he wasn’t about to get snobby.

“I have trouble remembering a lot of my childhood. I figured it would come back after transitioning into a hybrid. I hear some people remember things and some people forget things.”

Klaus grinned again when she grabbed the glass out of his hand to take a huge gulp, moaning into the drink. She set it on the end table behind him, leaning so that he saw straight up her shirt. It was hard to remember what she looked like all those years ago as he ravaged her on top of a table and then once more in his bed. He remembered it was good, very good. But the details slipped through the cracks with the notion he’d never see her again.

“I don’t know, I was just an angry girl. The usual you know? Angry and trying to be bigger and badder than I felt inside,” she shrugged, climbing back onto the couch. Her skin slipped damply against his as she laid against him once more.

Klaus ran the pad of his middle finger down her spine and asked, “Angry -or scared?”

A gust of wind pelted buckets of rain against the windows, filling the silence of her contemplation.

Hayley traced the stitching on his sleeve with a gnawed down nail, “Angry. Being scared paralyzes you but being angry gets shit done.”

“What about being angry when you lived with the Marshalls,” he pushed. Eventually she would have to tell him what happened.

“I don’t want you treating me differently.”

“I wouldn’t,” he assured her, adjusting his leg under her weight. She’d gone heavy in thought, as if turning off that part of her that was trying to keep the wall up that divided Hayley from the rest of the world. It very much resembled the walls that he had built for himself, stacked stone by stone with the belief they weren’t protecting themselves from others, but protecting others from themselves.

“My dad bought me a dress. It was pretty, you know just a basic pretty little girl dress. I would put it on every Wednesday. That’s when my mom would go to her book club and my dad and I would go to a neighbor’s. There were kids there, we’d play. I didn’t know…” She stopped then. He felt her body go rigid and watched her hand tighten into a fist on his chest.

“-I didn’t know what I was doing, you know? I did it for years, never understanding. When I did understand, I just did what I could to numb it until it wasn’t a problem anymore.”

Klaus wasn’t sure he wanted to know the rest or more, but he was sure that he was going to kill the men responsible.

“I didn’t trigger my curse by a boating accident. I killed the man who paid my father money to be with me. The worst part is that for years I loved that man. I believed it was okay because he was kind and it…felt good.”

“Your adoptive father remains alive?” Klaus felt the climb of rage festering in his gut, flushing up his chest.

Hayley sat up, straddling him, but there was venom in her glare, “He is mine to kill.”

“Understood,” he replied with a short nod.

Then, as the room lit up with another round of lightning, Hayley pushed her lips against his. The tickle of her hair at his cheeks and the softness of her lips took him by surprise. He jerked and jolted, separating from the kiss for a moment.

“I don’t want to fall asleep thinking about him,” she explained, her fingers threading into his hair.

She kissed him again, this time tugging his curls and shifting her hips. Klaus felt an immediate response and waited for her to feel it growing beneath her.

“Hayley,” his voice muffled against her fervent kissing. It felt good, of course it did, but the taste in her mouth only reminded him that she wasn’t entirely herself and it was a touch alarming the sequence of events. It was clear she was trying to numb what happened with that man again, and this time it was with Klaus. It shouldn’t be like this. She didn’t want this. He broke off the kiss and tried to peer into her eyes, to let her know he cared about what she had shared.

“Relax,” she said, pushing off of him, “I’m not expecting anything.”

“Stop that, love. Come back here,” he pulled her down. Then she lost it, and he knew he had been right, this was what she was trying to numb. She drenched his shirt in tears, her body shaking with every barely contained sob. It seemed Hayley fought the hardest when it was against herself.

Rubbing soothing circles on her back, Klaus hoped she would not withdraw tomorrow when the alcohol dried up and she was left with her admissions and actions. He didn’t want that. It felt good to be needed like this again; to be able to provide something other than money or as a warm body to fuck for the excitement.

He finally started the drift to sleep as her pent up tears faded into silent hiccups. The last person he held like this, tears soaking his shirt, was Rebekah. A century or so ago at least. Klaus had forgotten what it felt like to hold someone’s pain for them; he had spent so long dealing with his own by not dealing with it at all.

* * *

 

Soaked to the bone in the storm Hope could no longer contain, she made it to the barrier-spelled boundary when her face smacked into it. Hope’s nose gushed blood as she shouted a stream of profanities. Bruno whined; high pitched and ears back. Hope gingerly dabbed at it with the back of her hand, closing her eyes to focus on the underlying hum of her magic. The moon had charged her powers and she felt the spark of it as she tore down the barrier. Whoever hired Rosine to keep Hope contained was a damn moron. That was too easy.

Hope’s feet sunk into the sodden earth, once-white sneakers now filthy with rain disturbed soil. The school’s gardens came into view, along with the barn where she used to take her art classes with Mr. Brandon. Though now, it was surrounded by bright  
yellow crime tape. Flowers were set all around it, along with melted down candles. Hope lost her footing when she saw the written messages. You will be missed Mr. Brandon. Her knees stung but she barely felt anything beyond the rising panic.

Her cell bobs in her hand as Hope fumbles to call Jonathon. This wasn’t right. She left him there that day before she was taken by Elijah and Rosine in town. What did her father do, murder all of her ex lovers? Good thing he didn’t know about that one time with Ada…  
No. There was no reason to kill Jonathon Brandon. Unless Elijah tracked her from there that night. Oh god…

“Hello?” It was Jonathon’s wife and Hope’s favorite teacher from school. Hope swallowed against the lump in her throat, gagging at the bile rising. “Hope, is this you?”

Hope hung up, tears blurring her vision. She couldn’t face anyone right now. He was dead because of her. So was Henry. And now her parents would hate her because of that video. No, she had to do that. She had to make sure they understood she was not a chess piece, not a weak player in the game of the world vs. The Mikaelsons. If her father taught her anything, it was that to be hated and feared comes with the name. It was the legacy he left her with.

Her legs felt like jello, but she had to get moving. If Ada were staying anywhere now that Henry was gone, it would be at the school. There was a way in that Damon Salvatore once told her when she was little. She hadn’t seen him since she was ten and Elena had to inspect an injury that wasn’t healing. Turned out Hope was picking at the same spot, opening the wound again and again. She hadn’t realized she was doing it, it was during those long days and nights that everything felt like it had when Inadu had taken of her body. The cold and empty was almost worse than the despair.

Hope ran in the shadows towards the back of the school. There was an old cellar and inside that cellar was a fake wall. Damon had leaned and whispered, “For if you ever need to make a quick escape.” She kept it a secret for years until she and Ada started ditching classes in favor of drinking stolen bottles of Ric’s bourbon in their bikini’s on Ada’s roof.

Hope coughed at the disturbed dirt and dust and pushed at the fake wall, opening up to a dark and damp walkway. She used her cell phone light to get to the narrow wooden stairs that wound up to the kitchens. There wouldn’t be anyone up this hour, and if there was it was just Ada or the weird cleaning guy that made the same knock knock joke every time he saw her. The orphaned kids would be at the group home that once belonged to the Lockwood family. Hope spent most of her summers helping her mom with them, though the past several years Hope chose sleepovers “with Ada” and “art sessions” with Mr. Brandon to helping out. It had just become too hard watching those scared kids struggle for safety and normality. It reminded Hope of when her family left her.

She flinched when the door creaked like a moan, but she had been right, nobody up. Her rain soaked hair and clothes dripped a trail behind her as she tiptoed out of the kitchen, grabbing an apple as she passed the counter. As Hope crept down the long hallway past the headmaster’s offices, she bound up the stairs as quietly as possible.

“Hope?!” Ada hissed. She spun around at the top of the stairs, Ada right behind her. Hope grabbed her arm, shushing her, and yanked her into the bedroom.

“I can’t stay long, I need your help. I know you have no reason to want to, but I-”

“-HELP!”

“Ada! I-”

“-SOMEBODY!”

Hope stepped away, her back hitting the wall. She slid down, too tired to fight, crestfallen that one by one, she was losing everyone she cared about. Caroline appeared at the door, eyes wide and hair .

“Oh my god. Ada, go get Dr. Shelton.” Caroline crouched down and touched Hope’s cheek, “come here…”. Hope didn’t know she needed it, but when Caroline’s arms wrapped around her, Hope hugged her harder than she’d ever hugged anyone.

When Hope trailed behind her to the bathroom, it was then that she realized Ada hadn’t been screaming for help because she was afraid of her, but because Hope looked like shit. The faucet ran as Hope stared at the girl in the mirror. She was as white as snow with shadows under her eyes, hair tangled and wet, blood smeared all over her face. Worse than that, there was still blood from Elijah’s feed between her legs. The rain had caused it to streak down to her ankles.

Her knees were skinned but healed, small pieces of gravel stuck to the dried blood.

What Hope hadn’t considered was running into Aunt Freya. Hope thought she’d be staying at the farmhouse. Hope knew she would have to make a run for it if she expected to get back to Elijah before her family did. It was just that she was so cold and so numb, all her grand plans seemed to disappear. Everything she had done started to trickle back in at the sight of her aunt.

“Who…who did that to you?” Aunt Freya asked, gesturing towards where the blood collected the most. Hope looked down and realized what it must look like.

“Nobody hurt me, I just came to see Ada before going home,” Hope said. Her teeth were chattering and she wanted to throw up. Caroline ran a wet washcloth over Hope’s face, exchanging a look with Aunt Freya.

“Sweetie…” Caroline gently prodded, “where is Elijah?”

“He left,” Hope lied, eying the toilet. She really may need to puke soon.

Aunt Freya narrowed her eyes but said nothing. Hope didn’t catch what she murmured into Caroline’s ear as Hope’s blood was rinsed from the washcloth. Hope felt the creep of paranoia, her eyes darting around the room. Ada was in the doorway with Dr. Shelton who was on her phone. Caroline and Aunt Freya looked like they were discussing how to disassemble a bomb, nervousness oozing off of them. Hope looked at the window, knowing she was too high up to jump without breaking something. Her magic was the only option, but this side of the school blocked magic. Hope could break through the spell but it would take a lot of time and power, neither of which she had at the moment.

“Could I speak with Ada in private?” Hope asked, sitting unsteadily at the lip of the clawfoot tub. It smelled like mildew and fear in here.

“Yes, of course.”

When the bathroom door clicked closed, Hope wrote a text on her phone, knowing that they were listening outside of the bathroom. She showed it to Ada, relief washing over her as her best friend nodded slowly. Hope had to trust someone, and she was putting it all in Ada.

* * *

 

Hayley jolted awake, her forehead connecting painfully with Klaus’s jaw. It took her a moment to realize where she was and who she was laying half naked on.

“Someone’s here,” Klaus stated, nearly pushing her off of him. The door flung open and there he was. Elijah. He’s standing on the porch, drenched in rain, his shirt stained crimson around the collar. Hayley’s heart hammered so hard and the adrenaline rushed like ice;everything seemed to slow and expand. It was like looking through a fishbowl; sounds were morphed and amplified while she willed her body to cooperate with her only objective. Finding Hope.

“WHERE IS SHE?” Klaus roared, tearing out of the house. He had Elijah pinned to the ground in a flash. “WHERE?” Klaus growled, eyes golden amber.

Hayley called for her, stepping over the brothers to flash down the stairs. She called her name dozens of times, tearing around the property. The sounds of the brother’s struggle carried through the falling raindrops as Hayley stood barefoot in a puddle near their scuffle. Despair hit hard when she realized Elijah had come alone.

Klaus’s fists slammed into Elijah, his jaw, nose, gut, mouth. Sickening cracks and pops cut through Klaus’s angry roars. There was no question who would win if Hayley didn’t put a stop to it. He stopped only after she called his name sharply. He threw Elijah with such force, he landed in front of her, sliding across the muddy gravel.

Rising to his knees, Elijah spit out a tooth in a spatter of blood. The crows hopped along the covered portion of the fence behind them, curiously cocking their heads and cawing. Hayley felt cold, her arms stinging from her nails digging through the skin. Her feet were moving and she didn’t know what she was going to do, but she was going to goddamn do it. Elijah stood and backed away in stumbling steps, real fear on his face and a hand clutching his ribs. He was already beat to hell but Hayley wanted him to beg for his death. She wanted him to understand that while he was an Original, she was superior.

“Don’t. We need him coherent,” Klaus called. Hayley realized her fangs were bared, dripping in wolf venom. She must be really pissed off, it’s a shame she had to waste such a potent bite. There was something satiating in the feel of a vampire’s skin sizzling and melting away between your teeth. Their screams always so loud. The smell; sweetened putrid death. Hayley could smell his fear now, the sweat beading sourly from every pore.

Suddenly it was Klaus’s eyes she was staring into. His hands were at her cheeks and voice gently calling her name.

“Are you good, love? Calm down, that’s it…”

“I need to find her,” she reminded Klaus with clenched teeth. It was painful like needles in her gums when the fangs receded.

“Time is of the essence. I don’t know if you’re aware of how long it takes an Original to regenerate after being reduced to pulp, but let us just say that Hope would make it well into another state by the time we got things sorted out.” His hands left her cheeks but he remained close to her side.

When her eyes finally met Elijah’s, it was hard to hold the gaze. But only because he looked the worst she had ever seen him- and she didn’t mean the blood and broken bones. His knees gave out and he sank to the mud fighting back tears and pitifully failing.

“Niklaus,” he croaked. He raised his hands almost as if he were praying and begged raspingly, “please listen to me. I can’t remember.” His face was still swollen from Klaus’s fists and blood caked under his nose. This time he focused more on Hayley when he said, “I can tell by the looks on your faces that I have done something…horrifying. I am not asking you for forgiveness, but I am me. Just me.”

His words reminded her of when he emerged from the red door in his tidy suit, her hands wrapped protectively around Hope’s small body. Behind the door he was a savage; with a viking king’s long woven hair and merciless thirst for dominance, steely eyes and cold grip around her neck. His knees spreading her legs, hinting at what he would do to her. Just tuck it all away neatly behind a pretty door and an impeccable suit and it’s…just him. Hayley wanted to laugh in that fucked up way that happens at the strangest times. Like at funerals, which she began to avoid altogether.

Elijah added stronger this time, “I do not know what has happened after that day I asked Marcellus and Vincent to help me stay away from my family.”

“How did you find us then, if you conveniently rendered yourself an amnesiac?” Klaus asked, gesturing with an air of bewilderment.

“I followed the dog,” he pointed with a blood covered hand. Hayley looked around and noticed Bruno cowering under the porch. He was never much of a guard dog.

Elijah started reaching inside his pants pocket and tugged a folded letter out between two fingers, presenting it to them. Klaus snatched it and Hayley hovered, eyes settling on Hope’s familiar scrawl.

“She’s coming back to the cabin,” Hayley stated, turning to run for the car.

“Forgetting something, love?” Klaus called, his eyes on her lower half. Glancing down she remembered she was still in her white shirt and black panties.

“Maybe we could all do a quick clean up?”, she suggested, still unable to look Elijah in the eye.  
Inside the home was freezing now that they were rain soaked and Hayley had bumped up the air conditioner earlier. When she glanced at her reflection in her bathroom mirror, she regretted the wet white shirt and thin underwear look. Peeling her clothes off, she yelped when the door slammed open. Klaus stalked in and thrust her phone into her hand. Another text from Hope. A video. Hayley felt that familiar roar in her ears.

When she finished, Hayley couldn’t see. All she saw was red. The red on his face, the red between Hope’s legs, the red of her lips as she explained to the camera what it meant, eyes vacant and rimmed in red.

* * *

 

Elijah goes to the restroom and cleans off his face and hands, uses Hope’s mouthwash. He flinches away from his reflection in the mirror. When he gets into the car, Klaus asks dully, “Bad taste in your mouth?”

Elijah had never wanted death more. If not for the fierce need to punish those responsible for putting their family in this situation, he would likely have begged for it already.

 

* * *

 

“I can’t get a hold of her. Could someone try the father?” Dr. Shelton was saying as Hope gave Ada one last glance. Ada had provided the distraction while Hope slipped out of the window and scaled over to the balcony. There was little chance that she would be able to jump down without breaking something, but it was a risk she had to take.

The rain was making it nearly impossible for Hope to grasp the railing of the balcony. Her fingers coiled tightly around the metal, her skin pinching as it proved to be harder than she imagined. Hope slipped too soon and was falling before she had a chance to ready herself for the landing. A sharp cry escaped when she met the earth, her wrist snapping with a loud crack. The pain was horrendous, she’d never felt anything like it. All she could do was feel it until all she felt was cold.

“What the hell do you think you-”…

Hope snapped Caroline’s neck with a flick of her good wrist, still panting in pain. She stood unsteadily, cradling her arm, wincing with each step towards the woods.

“Fuck today,” she muttered. Hope wished she knew how to poof into a flock of birds and fly the rest of the way.

By the time Hope arrived at the cabin, her wrist was healing but barely. Maybe Elijah would be able to feed her his blood so she could perk up a bit. Hope remembered the apple she took from the school kitchen, pulling it from her bag to take a bite.

With her words muffled by a full mouth, she called out, “Elijah?”

“Hope…” he replied softly from the living room. She approached him slowly, the apple dripping in her hand. He looked soaking wet and was wearing different clothes.

“Where did you go?”, she asked, feeling the hair raise on the back of her neck. Something was off. She dropped her bag to her feet with a loud thud, readying her hands. He glanced down at them, and she saw that he understood what she would do if things started to go wrong.

“I went looking for you and ran into your father.” His words seemed different. More like she remembered as a child; controlled and crisp, an air of elegance. She reached out with her magic, feeling for what he was feeling towards her. Fuck.

“Oh…and how’s he?”, Hope asked with a faux smile.

“Not thrilled. Your mother is even less enthused. So tell me, what is your next move? You wish to include me, or you wouldn’t have freed me from Inadu.”

“I take it they saw the video?”. Hope cocked her head, “the one where we make a really big mess of things…”

“I take it you’re proud of yourself?”,he challenged, raising his brows.

“Not really, but somebody needed to pay for Henry. Two birds, one stone,” she shrugged, taking a step back towards the kitchen. “Plus, I told you you’d need protection and that’s what I’m offering. I need someone on my side. Someone as in the dark as I am.” She couldn’t outrun him but she could make him uncomfortable enough that he’d slip up somehow. Hope needed to gain control of the situation if she was going to get out of here. This was not Elijah anymore. She felt him as someone entirely new. She felt the love and concern, but also the anger and pain that she would do this to the family. Hope imagined she would be feeling a lot of that from everyone now.

Hope started stripping off her soaked clothes, making sure to keep just enough of her in his view. She had to walk by him to get to the hall and she could feel the unease rolling off of him at the sight of her wet bra and panties clinging to the shapes and curves of her.

“You need not worry about me. Where is the dagger?”

“How do you know about the dagger?” Hope challenged. She had stabbed him in the back. He was slipping.

“A dream I had,” he replied. Hope considered him for a moment, the collected rain droplets leaking coldly down her body from her hair and undergarments. Maybe it was still him, but his memories were back? This felt off so either way, she could no longer trust him.

A scream outside yanked both of their attention. Elijah tore out of the house before Hope had a chance to throw her red dress she left behind on. At least it was dry. She pulled at the hem as she tentatively stepped outside. Hope raised her hands, readying herself for a fight. First thing she noticed was Elijah standing between Rosine and her mother, who lay on the ground with her neck at an odd angle.

“Great timing voodoo freak. We’re unlinked and you’ve pissed us all off long enough,” Hope called from the doorway. Rosine flung her with a nod of her head, Hope hitting the ground way too hard. This time it was her rib that cracked, landing conveniently on the only damn rock in the yard. She yelped like an injured cub, causing Uncle Elijah to turn towards the sound.

Before Hope could struggle to her knees, Elijah’s neck cracked and he crumpled next to her mother. This was bad. It was nearly dawn and the birds had started to stir in the trees above. It was strange what sounds bled through when adrenaline started pulsing in gushes through your veins.

“Hope, run,” her father’s voice was in her ear. She gasped and looked up but he was already approaching Rosine. He threw a broken piece of porch railing at her but she simply torched it with a glance and cock of the head, embers flying all around her dark hair. It was a badass move that Hope would definitely be stealing.

Rosine immediately started chanting something, wind swirling with every word. Her father screamed out in agony, the sounds of bones popping and cracking, reminding Hope that she had to protect them too. It didn’t matter how angry she was about Henry, that disappeared when she saw her father suffering at the hands of this witch. She could be mad later.

Hope realized, as she stood shakily to her feet, that Rosine was trying to get her father to transition into wolf form. It looked like it was working. So she hit back with as much as she could muster after all the shit she had gone through in a day and night. Hope didn’t realize it wouldn’t take much to disarm her, completely ripping the woman’s head off with just an intention and a lot of focused anger and fear. The blood went everywhere and Hope nearly puked at the sound. Like prying open a coconut or something; all wet and crunching. He stomach lurched.

This was the first time Hope had witnessed something so horrific and it was by her own hand. She turned and ran, trying to put as much space between herself and the scene as possible. What the fuck was she doing? What had she gotten herself into with Elijah and now this…  
Henry, Jonathon, Caroline, her mom, Elijah, and Rosine all harmed because of her. Though, three of six would return to life and only one of them had been by her own doing. Where was she even running?

Arms grabbed her and she collided hard into a solid, heaving chest.

“No more running, sweetheart.” Her father’s voice was kind but she felt the sadness in his words.  
She didn’t know how long they stood like that, frozen in an embrace; Hope shaking like a frightened animal and her father breathing her in like it’s all he’s wanted the whole time. The storm had passed and the forest was coming to life in the early morning sun. It seemed like life wanted to go on even though Hope felt pinned to this moment in between.

“I want to go home.”

“That’s good to hear, Littlest Wolf.”

When Hope found that she couldn’t put one foot in front of the other, he lifted her as if she weighed nothing at all, carrying her the entire way back.


	7. Chapter 7

**Ch. 7**

**Song Rec: “Rising, Rising” by Crywolf**

 

 

* * *

 

 

His skin was reddened from the scalding shower, steam billowing and thickening his haggard breaths. Elijah felt numb, anesthetized by the sequence of events upon waking up with his mouth covered in blood and a note from his now teenage niece. He felt as disconcerted as he always did when time and consciousness ceased to exist until he was thrust back into it. This time it was not due to being daggered and trapped in a coffin because he stepped out of line with his hybrid brother. On this occasion, he shared the burden of harming his family with someone he did not remember. This person he was without his memories of family, he would need to pay for his sins. Niklaus would have it no other way and Elijah would agree. He would gladly accept the punishment.

The act of ablution no longer held the key to catharsis after a guilty act. No amount of scrubbing at his skin erased what he knew these hands had done to Hope. The images and videos from Hayley’s phone played on loop in his darkened mind, impossible to turn them off now. It was torture. Hayley’s jaw so tense and eyes so hollow, sliding the phone wordlessly across the kitchen island counter. “If I have to live with these images, then so do you,” she had said. They were the only words she uttered to him before sitting in the hallway outside of the room where Hope tried to rest.

Elijah felt numb, for it was preferable to feeling the shame and regret. It was better than pondering why his niece thought it a good idea to use his condition as the way to get back at Niklaus for her lover’s death. To Elijah, it was an unspeakable abuse of her position. He understood she was just a child, barely stepping into adulthood, yet was this an excuse for harming the family in such a way? He thought not.

His red hands shook under the stream of water as the feelings trickled back in. Oh how easy it would be to flip his switch, turn off the human side that cared for Niklaus so deeply and for so long. Become as numb and uncaring as the monster who fed from Hope in such a way…

He would do it but if there was even a slender chance that Hayley would ever look him in the eye again, running from fixing what was demolished would not do. It would not do at all. There was still a threat to the family outside of himself and Elijah Mikaelson would not leave them to face their enemies alone. He clenched his jaw in inner turmoil, _yet I too am the enemy._

With Hope’s first kill, her triggered werewolf curse had taken precedence over investigating where they stood with the coven Rosine served now that they would likely sense her death.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you ready for this?”, Klaus whispered from the doorway. They stood shoulder to shoulder, watching Hope sleep in the center of Hayley's bed, hair still wet from the shower and face as pale as the ivory sheets. The room smelled like the vanilla of Hope's lotion and a calming herb, from Freya, burning slowly. The splattering sounds of Elijah's shower reminded Hayley that they were no longer alone.

“I think we need to let her sleep longer before we do this,” Hayley replied, tucking away a strand of hair.

He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, turning to shuffle down the hallway, uncharacteristically calm. These herbs were working their magic but Hayley felt like it was cheating. In real life you fought it out until everything was dealt with. Even if shit didn't turn out the way you wanted, you still had to grab it while it was hot and deal with the burn later. This felt nice, but Hayley knew better than to trust in a good feeling for long.

These smoldering herbs around the house were an old trick borrowed from Esther. They smelled like burnt hair and cut grass, leaving a weird echo to her thoughts. Klaus told her it was something his mother would burn to calm Mikael when he'd had too much to drink or when Henrik was fussier than usual through the night.

While the calming effects aided in the task of discussing things with Elijah a touch easier, it was really being used because of Hope's triggering of the werewolf curse. The full moon was near and Hope was already showing signs of restlessness. Hayley remained worried that if Hope transformed into wolf form tonight, she would be too exhausted to handle the pain without getting some rest. Freya insisted the rest of them get rest too, because come tomorrow, they needed to hear what she had to say.

Klaus's familiar form stood in front of the large living room window, the bright sunlight of a new day casting an orange glow across his ancient skin. A glass of bourbon dangled at his hand, filled nearly to the brim.

“I cannot bare to look at him, Hayley.”

He drank half of the glass in two gulps. Not usually how he drank his alcohol. He turned around and his gaze settled on hers, head tilted and those pouty boy lips that she had decided to taste last night, pursed in thought. Hayley hadn't even had time to think about it until now.

“About last night...”, she said slowly, eyeing the alcohol with a renewed thirst.

“Yes, you were certainly...” his eyes flicked down and he made the show of peering to look towards her ass, “cheeky.”

Hayley smiled in spite of herself, ducking her head to reply, “yeah. I'm sorry about...all that.”

His brows furrowed, those damn lips parting as he sucked in a slow breath, exhaling her name in a way that made her nervous. She didn't know why. Things felt even weirder with Hope and Elijah back. It was as if the time spent alone with Klaus had expired and now it was time to get back to the way things really were. More than anything, Hayley felt that slow trickle of regret at sharing what she shared. He didn't even know the half of it and now he would want to know more. He would want to know why she hadn't killed Jeffery Marshall. He would want to make sure she had killed the neighbor. That would mean he would eventually go digging where she didn't want anyone to ever intrude on. She didn't care how close she became to someone, nobody belonged there.

“You expressed concern last night that I would treat you differently. Is this still your concern or is it another aspect you regret?” He stepped closer, still approaching even after she shrugged and glanced away.

The shower cut off. Only the sounds of wind rustling the trees and Bruno barking at the squirrels making a mess of the bird feeder outside were left now. That, and the pounding of her heart as Klaus's lips lowered in a hypnotic and slow way towards her own.

“Because I have no regrets and I meant what I said,” he added. She felt his breath brush her skin with each word, sweetened with bourbon and intention.

Klaus placed a kiss at the corner of her mouth, not quite at her lips. Hayley closed her eyes as he ran his cold glass along her jawline. He murmured into that same spot, “I want to know a lot more about you.”

The bathroom door opened and Klaus stepped away, returning to his spot in front of the window. To avoid looking at Elijah as he entered the room, Hayley took to calling Bruno back inside so that his barking wouldn't wake Hope. Even beneath Klaus's black on black designer clothing and Hope's pearberry bodywash, Elijah still smelled like Elijah. Her stomach turned.

“Has Freya been able to reach Rebekah?”, Elijah asked tentatively. On him, Klaus's clothing still managed to look elegant.

“Do you think sister dearest will rush all the way up from Marcellus's bed to rescue the likes of you?”, Klaus pondered in his thick accent. He still faced the window, the grip on his glass edging on too hard. Hayley wondered if it would crack.

“No. I wish to speak with Marcellus immediately. Vincent as well,” Elijah replied, eyes downcast. Hayley had never seen him stare at his feet when he spoke, not even when in the wrong.

Klaus turned around, his drink sloshing out of the glass and splattering to the floor. Bruno hopped off his usual seat to lap it up.

“Quit it,” Hayley snapped at the old dog. She hadn't meant to say it so loudly, they all froze as Hope stirred from the bedroom.

Klaus continued when it was clear Hope had settled again, “If you can get a hold of them, I'd like to have a word myself. But it seems that as we were so wrapped up in what you were doing with my daughter, I haven't spent the necessary time on the pressing matter of Marcel's defiance and betrayal towards this family. Had he sent Inadu's pieces sooner, perhaps your teeth would have remained in your skull rather than sunken into my daugh-”

“- _Klaus_ ,” Hayley warned. She didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to think about it.

Elijah didn't miss a beat, “I agree. I find it extremely suspicious that the person who compelled me, also holds control of that which seeks to annihilate us all.”

“You wish to blame Marcellus for your perversions?”, Klaus asked in a taunting lilt.

“Well,” Elijah gestured with both hands, “If you can think of a better reason for what has transpired since I have been away...”

Hayley felt a lick of anger, hot like acid festering beneath her ribs. He was lucky they were listening to him at all. She folded her arms and moved to the kitchen, needing more distance from his scent. Elijah seemed to notice because he backed down again, bowing his head.

“I would not have touched that girl if it weren't for the compulsion. Of that I am sure, I would have thought you would both be sure of that too,” Elijah nearly whispered.

Hayley ignored the guilt. She wasn't ready to forgive even if in her bones she knew Elijah spoke the truth. Looking towards him, but still unable to lock eyes, Hayley said, “We don't need Marcel for answers. There's plenty of witch power in Mystic Falls. We'll pry the compulsion out of you if we have to.”

Klaus nodded in agreement, taking the last swig from his glass before setting it down with a clunk. “And dole out the appropriate punishments for those involved.”

Hayley started to feel the pricks of pins and needles as the full moon teased from the day-lit sky. Come nightfall, it would get a whole lot worse. Hayley thought of the Crescents back home and the way they threw full moon parties since taking on her abilities after her union to Jackson. It was a way to get their minds off of the effects of the moon and an excuse to work off some of that aggression on one another, usually in the form of fighting and sex. Hayley could handle neither right now, so maybe more sleep and her daughter's scent would help pass through the waves of discomfort.

“I'm going to go lay down with Hope, you good?” Hayley asked Klaus. He looked wistful and she realized he probably wanted to lay down with them. Leaving Elijah alone as they had a pack meeting wasn't a great idea though, and she was glad to see he understood that.

“Very well. Is there a particular time you wish for me to wake you?”

Hayley shrugged, rubbing at her face with both hands before replying, “no more than two hours.”

“I will see you in two hours then,” he said, crossing his arms and looking like he'd rather set himself on fire than sit in a room with Elijah for that long.

If she weren't so tired and focused on Hope, she might feel really bad for him. But,they were old and had been through some crazy stuff. This was shit, but it felt like something they could handle without her. Or maybe it was the herbs burning in the corners of each room making her believe such things.

 

* * *

 

 

Bruno stayed close to Niklaus, eyeing Elijah with ears flattened and nose twitching. The first hour was met with silence after Elijah attempted conversation, just once. Niklaus's jaw remained clenched and lips pinched as he tapped and scrolled endlessly on his phone, eyes trained on the screen with such concentration it reminded Elijah of their time spent in Copenhagen during the 1500's. Niklaus had become so despondent during the rift between he and Elijah over Katarina Petrova's escape a decade earlier, that he was either lashing out at Rebekah or penning letters to potential contacts in other countries. With only the paranoia of being found by their father bonding them together, many years were spent in silence and anger.

Elijah had tried his best as soon as Hayley breezed by him, her chin nearly brushing her chest in an effort to avoid his pleading gaze.

“Please Niklaus,” Elijah had begged, “You know me. I would never feed on a child. I never have.”

His reply? “Oh, you have now. And if you open your mouth again, I will tear your jaw from your face and let the dog gnaw at it whilst you grow a new one.”

The memory of Rebekah's cries from their home in Copenhagen reminded Elijah that their half brother made good on his threats. Niklaus had promised that if he caught her with the man she could not seem to part with, Niklaus would ensure that it would not happen again. To this day, Rebekah nor Niklaus spoke of it. Neither ever told Elijah what exactly her punishment had been, but the amount of blood in their small apartments had indicated a most brutal crime.

Now, as Elijah stepped lightly from peering at bookshelves to walls of family pictures, he could not help but worry for Hope. And for Hayley. There has not been a soul alive to escape the wrath that follows crossing Niklaus Mikaelson. It came to no surprise when Niklaus had banished Hayley to a life in wolf form after she crossed him to protect Hope. It would similarly come as no surprise if Hope's punishment were cruel in nature, and even more so for Hayley when she undoubtedly would step between father and daughter. Hayley was a far better mother than the one he and Niklaus had shared.

Elijah picked up a framed picture of Hope smiling into the camera, a lady bug perched on her finger and a flower in her hair. She looked to be around twelve, if that, and looked so much like Niklaus when she smiled that his chest ached. He had yet to see her smile in person, he realized. All of their interactions thus far in the dream realm and since his waking up had been tense, to put it lightly.

Elijah recalled Hope's words from the video text were spoken hollowly; vacant eyes settled on flushed skin. Sickening way to get her point across; frightening how easily she managed to do it, as if they were all nothing at all to her. Just like her father in the past. _That was for Henry_...

The child would either be reprimanded in true Niklaus fashion, or she would prove to be the only creature, past and present, to have betrayed him unscathed. Elijah had yet to establish certainty that he should fear for his niece's safety. The thought hit him again like a pulse; Hayley would choose to protect her daughter, thus landing her in the line of fire. Even if they did not wish him there as a familial figure, he was still bound to love and protect them in their best and worst; always and forever.

He needed to believe that the same bond applied to his own state of worst behavior. Elijah needed to believe that this act was forgivable. This required he do his own amount of forgiving. Admittedly, this was a struggle that had spanned centuries. Anger and resentment festered in him just as it had in his short human life, only heightened by this wretched curse of undying youth. It would take time to forgive Hope to the fullest. He barely knew her, and already he had never felt so betrayed.

The picture frame rattled in protest as he set it back atop the mantel. Niklaus shifted behind him, couch squeaking. The girl may not understand that she had used something very sacred to this family against them, and if she did then it was clear it mattered very little to her.

“Do you remember the dream realm?”, Klaus asked, disturbing the silence.

Elijah turned around, grasping his hands behind his back, “yes, it feels very distant now, but I remember.” His brother's chin was working itself left and right; something he did when struggling against words.

Niklaus asked, “How did Freya seem to you?” Elijah thought back, picturing the way she evaded his questions and the bizarre anxieties over him inside of the last realm, acquired by Henry's talisman.

“I assumed her behavior was due to suspicions Indau could use anything acquired in the dream realm against Hope...”

Niklaus raised his brows, and asked in a slow drawl, “But?” His brother knew his face too well. Clearly there was a 'but' to his statement.

Elijah nodded, “but Hope was highly suspicious of her intentions. She seemed convinced that using the dagger would hurt me instead of trap Inadu. Freya was insistent that she leave the dagger behind after and run away.”

“Yet the dagger is missing and all our sister has to say is that it is best discussed after the full moon.”

“I feel she knows something that she wants Hope to know, but not the rest of us. As alarming as this seems, I find it highly unlikely that Freya's reasons span further than it is safer for Hope this way.” Bruno growled when Elijah stepped towards Klaus in thought. “And yet, Hope remained convinced she was on her own and that I needed more protection than she. I do not understand.”

Niklaus dropped his head to the back of the couch, letting out a long sigh. Elijah could tell he was exhausted in the ways only pain and grief could thrust one into. The under eye shadows and stubble along his face only furthered the look of depletion. It was not a simple thing to watch his brother suffer.

“You will come to find that my daughter suffers the same ailments as I have succumed to in the past. Though, there's an interesting term for it now. I've just spent some time with Google getting acquainted with the diagnosis.”

“I see,” Elijah replied softly. So now it seemed that Niklaus sought to excuse Hope's behavior with a psychological analysis. This was a good sign in that he was willing to receive this betrayal as something beyond a breach of trust and act of treason.

“I am not excusing this act, brother. I can see it all over your face. The relief...”, Niklaus paused to roll his eyes. He stood, now an arm's length away, “When she is of sound mind there will be significant changes within this family. But one thing at a time...”

Elijah wanted to reach out and pull his little brother into a hug. Parting with him and Rebekah had been one of the hardest things he had ever had to do. Clearing his throat, he asked, “The full moon tonight, have you and Hayley decided a course of action?”

“She will get through it just as we have. We can go after her if she cannot control the change.”

Elijah folded his arms and asked, “How do the residents of Mystic Falls feel about this plan?”

Klaus folded his in like, “I am sure they would feel safe knowing two capable hybrids will oversee the issue.”

Elijah nearly sighed in exasperation, but remembered his current position. It would be thin ice coated in eggshells from here on out. His brother was nothing short of unpredictable in his moods as threats crept closer or remained unattended. Not to mention the growing list of those who would be receiving punishment. As much as it seemed to others that Niklaus reveled in the act of judge and punisher, he was merely motivated by the incessant need to remain alpha of the world. It was as if his half brother's wolf side was hardwired to live in this fashion, no matter how often Elijah tried to veer him back towards the right path.

“Very well,” Elijah gave a single nod, “what can I do to assist?”

“We do not require your assistance with Hope. Not now, or ever again.”

Elijah averted his eyes, trying to mask the pain. He likely failed, it was an overwhelming wave to submerge from. Niklaus grew quiet then.

“I see,” Elijah replied hoarsely.

“No, I do not think that you do. But you will, in time,” he murmured, moving around him to retrieve the bourbon bottle off of the mantel.

Elijah swallowed thickly. It was likely his brother would make good on this promise as well. Even so, Elijah's place was in service to his family, and there were many more members outside of the hybrids and their offspring. Marcellus may have compelled away that sense of loyalty for some time, but just as his brother's wolf side was imbedded in his being, so was Elijah's unrelenting need to serve and protect.

“Would I be of better service at Rebekah's side in New Orleans?”

“What I need of you is to find that bloody dagger. It is our leverage when we return to Louisiana,” Niklaus snarled, slamming the bottle down.

Hayley stalked into the room, anger lacing her words, “Will you two keep it down? We are in for a long night and she will need her strength.”

“It's fine, Mom,” Hope said softly from the hallway. She was hovering there with her arms wrapped tightly around her small frame, eyes trained on her bare feet. Elijah blinked away when she looked up to meet his gaze. She added, “I can't sleep anymore. It's too hot and I can't stop moving around.”

“I imagine you understand you are reacting to the werewolf curse? A full moon hangs in the day sky, and come night...”

“Yeah,” Hope said, head still down, walking slowly towards the kitchen. Hayley followed her as the brothers looked on from the split leveled living room.

“Are you hungry? I could make you something,” Hayley offered, tentatively placing a hand on Hope's shoulder. His niece was dressed in one of Hayley's old band shirts he recognized from years ago, her pajama pants adorned with small printed piglets and so long that they gathered under her feet.

Hope sat at the island on one of the barstools, her back towards him. Niklaus took the seat next to her; Elijah watched father and daughter look on as Hayley prepared a bowl of oatmeal. Bruno's tail wagged lazily as he moseyed to his place at Hope's feet, peering up expectantly. She pet him with her bare toes, keeping her attention on anything but the people occupying her home. Good, maybe the child felt shame and guilt for her transgressions after all. Diagnosis or not, she had hurt this family in choosing a man that did not even recognize himself as a part of them. He did not even exist.

“Can you go sit outside or something?” Hope asked loudly. Since she had not looked up to direct it towards anyone, they all stared at her in dumbfound.

Hayley furrowed her brows as she slid the bowl in front of Hope. “Um...who are you talking to?” she asked just as loudly.

Hope sighed heavily and thrust the spoon into her food, sliding off of the barstool to stalk out of the room. Stopping in the entrance to the hall, Hope stated over her shoulder, “I just need to be alone.”

The door to her room clicked behind her and Bruno laid down outside of it, whimpering incessantly.

“Should I go speak with her? Explain that I want to help her through this?” Niklaus asked.

“No,” Hayley shook her head, “you hear all that in there? That's her trying to find all of this.” Hayley pulled a box from the top of the refrigerator.

If it were possible, Niklaus appeared sadder after surveying the contents, his shoulders sagging and eyes unblinking.

 

* * *

 

 

This was always how it happened. First, Hope would spiral and do something that made a lot of sense in the moment, and then when it was all over, still and quiet and done with, she would feel it. It would lose its meaning as something that needed to be done or said and look more like something she caused. Then she would hate herself and cover up that feeling with whatever was available, whether that be a man in her bed or something buzzing in her veins.

When she couldn’t run- when the pain and the repercussions were just there for her to sit in like a shunned dog in a cage, that’s when things got desperately painful. Right now, sitting in her dark closet with her knees to her chin and tears streaming down her face, Hope couldn’t breathe. She didn’t deserve to breathe.

They were trying to be quiet, thinking she was having a mini melt down probably. Hope knew that none of them knew her secret. It was something she had only told him; her Elijah. They didn't understand that she could feel what each of them felt towards her. It was worse now. She swore it was the damn wolf curse and full moon making her magic even more sensitive. Feeling Uncle Elijah's disgust in her really fucking hurt. Bad.

They were even quieter as she rummaged through every hiding spot in her room, looking for just one vice. Her mother had found and taken everything, it seemed. The half of a joint Ike from school slipped her after potions class, her three remaining Vicodins she had stolen out of Jonathon’s bathroom, and the pint of vodka she knew Alaric wouldn’t miss from his grandfather clock liquor cabinet. The razor blade and baggy of coke was still stuffed inside the old creepy doll Aunt Bex sent her the year after everything had gone to shit. Hope couldn’t handle cocaine right now. She needed calm. She needed something that would blanket this rising panic and grief.

So, she had slowly emerged from her bedroom to walk through the living room where they all now sat. She had kept her head down, shuffling to the kitchen and trying to hide the blotchy skin and swollen eyes. They didn’t say a word as she clumsily trifled through the medicine cabinet, knocking bottles over and leaving it a mess. There wasn't a lot in there considering she never got sick. They'd accumulated it through the years for the kids her mom would sometimes take on. Hope could only come out with two allergy pills that sometimes made her sleepy, and a potion bottle containing one more sip of the sleep aid Freya usually made for Hayley.

Now, sitting in her one safe space, Hope struggled with breathing through the climbing fear. It came in flashes. Henry and Ada, Jonathon and his two kids sitting at home missing him, Uncle Elijah’s devastation at what he didn’t even have control over but she had, and the sickening realization that she _really_ hurt people this time.

The panic attack hit hard, her face flushing and skin pouring sweat. She shivered and shook, terrified of not getting enough air. It always scared her that her body and mind could do this to her, even though in one moment she could be fine and in the next believe she was slipping into insanity before impending death. Usually she would wrap herself around her mother and let her coax Hope into breathing normally again. Hope would breathe in her mother’s hair and skin, trembling against her until they both fell asleep. But how could Hope face her now? How could she lean on any of them after the way she used the situation with Uncle Elijah?

She couldn’t.

Hope couldn’t stand the inside of the little closet any longer. What once felt like a safe space from the nightmares that seemingly implanted themselves the night Inadu took over her body, causing her family to leave, now felt like a trap. Like if she stayed there any longer, the darkness would swallow her up and she would never breathe again.

She used her magic to light the closet, needing to ground herself to reality. The darkness bred too many nightmarish thoughts and images.

Hope screamed, bloodcurdling and sharp. Inadu stared back at her from the other end of the closet, head bowed and eyes peering up sinister. Like a lightning bolt of searing pain, images of those she loved trickled into her mind like a silent movie. Her family was surrounded by glowing blue and silently screaming open mouthed. It felt far more terrifying than if they were to make a sound. Light flooded into the closet as the door was nearly ripped from its hinges.

“You’re safe, breathe,” Hayley whispered into Hope’s ear.

“Inadu. I think she’s coming,” Hope choked out, gripping her mother. “I have to protect you,” Hope added. Something was going to happen, and soon.

As much as Hope wanted to hold on to the dagger as leverage for whatever was going on, fear backed her into a corner. If the last of Inadu was trapped in that dagger, she needed to make sure whoever she gave it to would know what to do. Keeping it was like carrying around a beacon for another attack and Hope was sure she could not survive her family being taken from her again. Even if they did think she was a ticking time bomb of bat shit crazy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Ch. 8**

**Song Rec: “Fuse” by Crywolf**

 

* * *

 

 

Hope's hands slipped into his own. They felt too hot and drenched in sweat, trembling as she hiccuped through her pleads. His daughter would not take no for an answer. Whether or not it was true, she was entirely sure that Inadu was coming. She believed it.

“Then take me to see Dr. Shelton. If I'm crazy or this is just a really bad wolf curse reaction, then it's better I'm with her anyway.”

Klaus glanced at Hayley, swallowing against the lump that had risen in the midst of Hope's screaming and crying that they take her seriously. He could tell by Hayley's expression that she was worried. For their daughter's sanity, safety, or both- he wasn't sure.

His hands yanked forward when Hope let out a frustrated growl, “ _Dad_ , I know it just like I knew when Cami was leading us into danger. I know things sometimes and they are right. It isn't my stupid disorder. It _isn't_.”

“You were a baby then. How do you remember that? Did your mother tell you the story?”

“No, it’s just something I can do- remembering things. It’s been a secret until now, but I’m willing to tell you all of my secrets if it means you will listen to me. Inadu _is_ coming.” Her eyes were bloodshot with all the angry tears shed since screaming from the inside of her closet. She added softly, “the school has a room on the property for the wolves who can't stop their change. I'll be safest there and I can't hurt anybody that way.”

Klaus stared at her, eyes tracing the way her face looked now, as a grown girl. He could still see her there, that little person he bought out bakeries for and tucked into bed with a good night kiss- one for each eyelid. “Okay. We will go to see Dr. Shelton at the school.”

Hope leaned her damp forehead to his, grasping the back of his neck, “Thank you.” It was a gesture only Elijah ever used on him. She tore away then, running about the house after changing out of her pajamas. Bruno followed her around frantically, barking when she sat to lace up her boots, as if he knew she was leaving without him.

“Hope...” Klaus murmured as she grabbed the car keys and turned around to stare at them expectantly. “No more secrets, love. We need to talk after we've gotten through tonight.”

She nodded slowly, a look of pain flashing across her face. He feared saying or doing the wrong things with her unlike with anyone ever before. But keeping her abilities a secret only meant that it was because she knew she had the power to cause great harm with them- or that she did not trust a soul in this world with her true self. He knew that feeling...that life. His daughter needed guidance and protection in whatever form he could give it to her. Hope glanced towards Elijah as Klaus shut the door behind them. Klaus noticed the way she eyed her uncle, as if trying to figure something out.

And underneath all of that fatherly need to protect his young, lay the festering angry wolf that paced in the pain of being betrayed in such a way by this girl he helped create in an act of indulgence. Who knew a one night stand would lead him here, facing demons he did not know existed inside each and every one of them.

 

* * *

 

 

Caroline met them at the side entrance again, looking worried with a grim set of lips and darting eyes. Hayley wasn't surprised to see school still in session, even with Hope's insistence they close down for the day. This was not Hope's first paranoia induced episode. There had been an incident when Hope was thirteen that carried on a lot like this. Crying, screaming, insistence that someone in her family was not safe and that something was coming for her.

“Hope, what a relief to have you back home with your family,” Dr. Shelton greeted as they shuffled into the room.

Hope stopped Caroline before she shut the double doors to the large room with a question. “Will you at least have my aunt put a protective spell around the school grounds?” Everyone seemed to watch Caroline for her reaction as she stood frozen in the hall, hands grasping both doorknobs and eyes unfocused.

“Yeah sweetie, sure.”

Hayley noted that Caroline sounded much brighter than she should with the anxious expression pulling at her pretty features. The door closed behind her with one swift tug, leaving them alone with the doctor.

Dr. Shelton invited them to sit, this time she took the arm chair and allowed them space to spread among the love seat and couch. Elijah sat alone across from the couch as Hope wedged uncertainly between Hayley and Klaus. Everything felt as awkward as it looked and Hayley feared for what would be talked about. Without the burning herbs, there would be no false calm blanketing their reactions. Not to mention, Hope was hardly calm at home ,so Hayley couldn't imagine what levels her moods would reach here without the aid of magical plants.

“I understand you fear for the school's safety. Tell me about that,” Dr. Shelton directed towards Hope. When she didn't answer, Hayley placed a hand on her nervously bouncing knee. She felt extremely hot to the touch.

Hope cleared her throat, “I feel like Inadu is near and she wants to harm everyone to get to me.”

Dr. Shelton jotted something down, speaking over the sounds of kids running down the halls, “What makes you believe this?”

“I just know,” Hope said flatly, sitting up rigidly to peer towards the door. The sounds of the students seemed to be agitating her.

“Have you ever had a feeling such as this before and it transpired as nothing?” Dr. Shelton spoke gently.

Hope settled back into the couch, crossing her legs, her boot accidentally smacking into Elijah's shin. It seemed as if he didn't notice, his eyes were vacant and frozen on the doctor's pen movements. Hayley wondered if he believed Hope's claims or if he too thought she was having an episode.

“Yes, but I've also been right. Can we open a window?” Hope swiped at her perspiring brow. Klaus stood to open the largest two, the old wood creaking in protest. Hayley scented the gardens wafting in; sweet and fresh.

“Do you remember what we talked about with centering yourself? Whenever you doubt if your feelings are part of your paranoia or if they are in reaction to facts, what is it we have discussed?”

Hope fiddled with the rip in her jeans. “If the facts point elsewhere, then my reaction is because of a distorted schema. Yeah, I remember.”

“What facts do you have to support your belief Inadu is on her way to cause harm?”

Hope bristled, Hayley felt the anger rolling off her and noticed a redness creep atop Hope's skin. Hayley knew that feeling well, it happened a lot the first several full moons Hayley fought against after turning into a hybrid. Anger was quick and sharp, burning like the first strike of a match.

“I guess none. Except that it's a fact that I can sense danger before it happens.” Hope proceeded to explain the way she remembered things from being a baby, causing the room to go still and silent. “I knew something bad was going to happen with Cami if I didn't stop her. I remember it clearly. Just as I remember knowing something bad would happen to my parents if I didn't stop their fight on the courtyard balcony.”

Hayley froze. Klaus glanced at her with wide eyes.

“Hope...what are you saying?” Hayley asked tentatively.

“I'm saying that I remember everything. Every moment, every word. I remember the fights and the good things too. I can prove it to you,” Hope said shakily, turning to face Hayley. “Jackson was angry with you one night about you choosing the family over him. I started to cry and you promised me you would make me a happy home one day, to just be patient with you because you loved me so much.”

Hayley could barely process what that meant. Her mind frantically ran through all the conversations she may have had in front of baby Hope about the Mikaelsons or all the times Hayley made her promises and asked for forgiveness for things she never wanted Hope to remember she had done. Tears blurred her vision. All she could feel was guilt.

“Stop, it's fine,” Hope mumbled, turning her attention back towards the rip in her jeans.

“It is no such thing...” Klaus said sadly. It sounded as if his throat were constricted. He continued, “but that is neither here nor there. What is important is that we get you through the full moon. Transforming is very painful and unsettling. With your...emotional state as it is, you will likely lash out once in wolf form.”

“Fine. If none of you want to believe me...chain me up now. But first I get to go see Ada.”

“Very well,” Klaus agreed.

Hayley wondered if he saw just how crushed Hope was at his disregard of her warnings against an attack. Hope stood and left the room in a hurry, her honey-amber hair bouncing behind her. Klaus sat down heavily beside Hayley, covering his eyes with one hand and dropping the other to her thigh. Both doctor and Elijah seemed to hone in on the gesture, Klaus too distracted to pick up on it at all.

Let them look and think whatever they want. Right now, it was all Hayley could do not to wrap herself around him and soak in the comfort his skin touching her own brought to her since his arrival.

 

* * *

 

 

Hope kept her head down on the way up to see Ada. No time to chat with the children or run into old friends. Not that she had any friends left. Music blared from the shut door; Hope's missing Deftones CD playing on the old disc player. She knew it was hers because number seven always skipped. Why was it the best songs always ended up with the skips?

The music turned off after Hope knocked, footsteps thudding across the floor. Ada's eyes widened when she flung open the door.

“Did you get it all?” Hope whispered, maneuvering around her old best friend to enter the large bedroom. Ada nodded and pointed towards the desk that was still cluttered with Caroline's dead husband's things. Hope lowered herself into the squeaky roller chair as Ada turned the music back on, but lower, so that they could talk.

The bottom drawer of the desk was spelled in a way that only Ada and Hope could get into it. It was something they started doing very young, only it was hiding toys and funny notes to one another as opposed to stolen goods. Anything that shut would do, they used to laugh at people trying to open cabinets they had spelled in the kitchen. Hope waved her hand and muttered the incantation, smiling up at Ada when it opened. Brought back good memories. The smile fell from Hope's face when Ada glanced away. So maybe her friend would never forgive her for sleeping with her father or inadvertently getting him killed...and rightly so. But Hope still loved the hell out of this girl for helping her. It's what made her family. It's what made Hope want to do everything she could forever to make it up to Ada.

Hope's hand grasped the dagger first, lifting and setting it gingerly to the desktop. It was heavier than she remembered and she swore she felt a heat to it. The stone looked pale, not at all glowing as it had when she first stabbed Elijah.

“Have you been able to figure out what this does exactly?” Hope asked, nodding towards the dagger.

“If you would just let me-”

“- _No_ Ada, it's too dangerous. I told you before. If it's Inadu in there then she can harm you. It has to be me.”

“But she could just as easily harm you and then your dad will have my head,” Ada argued back.

“Which is why I'm waiting. I need to get this and hide it far away from the school before I get sidetracked with being a werewolf and all. I had one of those freaky visions. If Inadu is whole like in my vision, then that means someone gets there hands on this and gives it to Marcel.” Hope reached inside the drawer to pull out the folder Mr. Saltzman had on the dagger. The dude was so old school that he kept things in printed form stuffed into labeled manila folders in a filing cabinet that was easier to bust into than a bottle of Flintstones vitamins. Which, Caroline repeatedly told him was stupid because things like hellfire happened. The adults around here never stopped talking about hellfire, which is what killed Stefan Salvatore and destroyed a multitude of Alaric's life's work.

Her friend surveyed Hope with a hand on her hip, “Yeah, you don't look so good. Do you want to change into something cooler?” Hope shook her head and tugged at her damp shirt. She probably reeked.

“It says right here, Ada,” she pointed to the handwritten notes all around the sketched out photo of the dagger. Alaric's handwriting was shit but she could make out most of it without squinting. Ada moved next to her, the familiar long raven hair brushing Hope's arm. God, she missed her. She missed having somebody to talk to; to laugh and cry with.

“I read that but I don't get it,” Ada admitted.

“It's not for holding souls or memories or any sort of pieces of entities. It's an energy binding object.”

“What the hell does that mean? In the bathroom you said it held a piece of Inadu.”

“It means you stab it into something you want to bind to a powerful source of energy. That explains why it feels warm. It's definitely bound to something.”

“So when you stabbed your uncle it wasn't to extract Inadu?”

“Better question. Why would my Aunt Freya say that's what the dagger would do? What did it really do? Elijah woke up as Uncle Elijah, none of us could explain that yet.”

Ada sighed and sat on the end of the bed, leaning her elbows onto her knees. Hope watched as she popped her knuckles, fingers cluttered with antique rings passed down in her family.

“Freya is in the restricted room, maybe it's time you asked her for some real information.” Ada tapped absently at her fishnet hose adorned knees.

“I'm pretty sure that's where my parents are now. Getting alone time with anyone is going to be impossible. I'm lucky I was allowed to see you but I blame that on my dad's guilt over Henry.” They both flinched at the mention of him. Hope blinked against the sting of tears and lowered her eyes. She had always believed she would get more time with Henry. Even after they were caught and he stopped meeting in their dream realm, she believed they would be together somehow.

The folder also had a folded picture taken of a canvas. Hope recognized the easel and barn flooring in the photo. The picture was of a symbol Hope knew well as the Pagan Triple Goddess.

“What's this?” Hope held up the creased paper.

Ada squinted and then replied, “A bunch of students were compelled after Mr. Brandon was killed. Only one painted this.”

“Why would Elijah leave this sort of clue?”

“Actually,” Ada leaned forward and lowered her voice as the song transitioned into the next, “Lizzie and Josie found that when they drew the compulsion out of him, that he remembered Elijah said 'they are coming back'.”

Hope groaned in frustration, rubbing gruffly at her temples. There were still too many unknowns and her body and mind were not working together at all. Hope felt like one of those plastic bags that escape in a parking lot that just wants to cling to something but the wind never lets up long enough.

Ada turned off the CD player and nodded towards the bed, “you should lay down for a little bit, I just talked to one of the wolf guys and he transformed for the first time last month. He said it was the most pain he'd ever been in.”

“I'd love to but my mom thinks I need to prepare myself for the big event. What a milestone,” Hope said dryly.

“It is though. Everyone had their bets going on how long you could go without triggering it,” Ada said with a smile. Hope reached out with her magic to feel what Ada felt towards her. She needed to know. She could tell her friend felt her prying but relaxed enough that the rest went by unnoticed. Hope always wondered how it felt for the other person as she opened that channel.

Hope smiled back after she felt that familiar bond and love. Ada still loved her after all. Hope had been too scared to reach out and feel it, assuming it was still like everyone else's reaction to her after being caught with Henry. Hope wondered when that changed.

“I better go find them. Hide the dagger in the cellar for me so I can grab it on the way out,” Hope whispered, shuffling towards the door. Looking back at her friend, she said, “And for what it's worth. I love you so much, Ada. I really do. And thank you.”

Ada looked like she wanted to cry but she also looked like she wanted to hit her. Hope knew that feeling. But it's true what they say, betrayal never comes from your enemies.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lizzie's eyes widened when Klaus moved too close. “You will tell me who she is speaking with or-”

A flash of pain that felt like a gripped nerve in his skull, caused Klaus to fall to his knees. Josie hovered over him with clenched fists. “Calm down and I'll stop.”

All he could do was nod. The release was like a new breath and it took a lot for him to keep his thoughts to himself. Witches were the thorn in his side since the day he was born. Since the day he was conceived more like it.

“Can _either_ of you help me?” He stood and straightened his shirt, “The full moon is upon us and I need my sister's assistance with Hope's triggered wolf curse. I imagine the two of you care for the safety of your beloved town?” He looked towards Freya who lay on her back, hands neatly folded over her rising and falling chest. She was surrounded by a circle of salt and bowls of foul burning herbs.

Josie stood close to her sister and peered up at Klaus. Though he knew the girls were not biologically Caroline's, the expression on Josie's face was all her. She said evenly, “Freya says to tell everyone that this is important and if you pull her out you risk losing her in the dream realms.”

Lizzie chimed in, twisting her golden hair around a finger, “and she wouldn't tell us who she was meeting anyway. Is there anything we can do to help Hope?”

“No, I imagine not.” He jabbed a finger in the air towards Freya, “when she wakes, do inform her that she and I have much to discuss. No excuses.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hayley assured both Caroline and Klaus that she would keep the cage locked and work with Hope from within before and during the full moon. The building was tucked into the woods on the school's property. Hayley and Hope had spent an entire summer with some of the Crescents and many of the wolf students hammering nails and anchoring chains and securing cages. Hayley hated the cages but after the one incident in the earlier years...well, they just had to. Two lives were lost that night and Hayley had barely spoken for a week. Luckily Henry had taken Hope in but Hayley regretted that time spent away from her sensitive daughter. Even the smallest of slights and Hope considered them acts of abandonment or personal attacks.

The cage door clanked heavily shut and Hope sat on the bolted down bench. Newly turned wolves had a tendency to tear up their surroundings so most everything in this building consisted of chains and bolts and cages.

“I'm scared,” Hope admitted shakily.

Hayley brushed her fingers through Hope's hair, sweeping tendrils from her face. “And hey, that's okay. I can turn with you if you want.”

“No, I need you to unlock the cage when Inadu comes.”

Hayley clenched her jaw. This again? “Hope...”

“Just...” Hope shrugged and gestured towards herself, “teach me what I need to know.”

Hayley tried to pretend Hope was just like any other wolf kid but it was hard because as her mother, she knew Hope's limits. Her daughter was strong as hell, but something had never been quite right after Inadu took Hope's body and left her in despair. The residual trauma and anxiety made things like crippling physical pain and loss of control a terrifying experience for Hope. Hayley knew that her daughter had no idea what she was in for and maybe it was better that way.

“As the night gets closer you'll feel a restlessness. Everything will be uncomfortably hot and you'll feel as if you need to be somewhere. Emotions run hotter. It's not easy. But Hope?” Hope lifted her large and frightened eyes to meet hers. “I am here with you. I won't leave you, not even for a second. Understand me?”

Hope nodded. Looking down at her feet she said, “teach me how to control it. I want to know how to return to my human form during a full moon. I know I can do it, I inherited all sorts of things from you and dad. If hybrids can do it, then why not tribrids?”

Hayley knew it would be painful, but there was only one way to teach her. Repetition. Breaking your bones over and over and exhausting yourself on top of the intense pull of the moon.

With a hand on Hope's shoulder, Hayley peered into her eyes and asked in earnest, “will you tell me if I am pushing you too hard?”

“No. I want you to push me as hard as you need to.”

“That's my girl...here we go...”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The students were laughing and then they weren't. Klaus tore outside, Elijah and Caroline at his heels. The silence reminded Klaus of the way it sounded after a thick snow, like life paused and nothing dared to breathe. The air was so chilled it was as if the night sky swallowed any residual day's warmth in a matter of seconds.

He knew not to look but he had to. Their mouths all agape in silent screams and blood pouring from their eyes, the students were frozen in their death. The Hollow was here, just as Hope had promised. And he had not listened.

“Oh god, my kids,” Caroline gasped, turning back towards the house.

“Wake Freya,” Klaus called to her.

An icy wind and glowing blue light drifted from the trees facing the school.

“SHOW YOURSELF” Klaus roared into the darkness. The smell of the children's blood reminded him that he was hungry, which only sickened the rest of him.

A woman stepped slowly from the woods, and like a slow trickle the witches in their matching robes followed behind. Klaus counted at least forty.

“Edith?” Elijah whispered, stepping towards the woman. With a jerk of her chin, Elijah's neck snapped and he crumpled to the ground. Klaus felt the dread creep up his spine like a spider crawling meticulously up its thread. Who the bloody hell was Edith?

The robed woman settled an indifferent gaze towards Elijah's body before turning her attention to Klaus. “Where is the tribrid?”

“And you are...?”

“You know who I am. I have come to collect the girl and restore magic to New Orleans. Your immortal time is up.”

“I know it has been quite some time since we last spoke, Inadu, but I must remind you that Originals cannot die.”

“All things die. Nature takes its time, but it will find a way.”

Klaus took a step forward, hoping to buy time for Freya to join the fight. “How are you whole? There is one piece at large.”

“I accepted a deal from your sisters. They are where they belong now. It is where your daughter must go next. Nature requires balance.”

Klaus opened his mouth to demand to know more but was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of paws tearing at earth. Two wolves rushed in, snapping and snarling through the witches behind Inadu. He recognized Hayley's wolf ripping out throats in gory chunks and pulling limbs from screaming witches with sickening pops and wet splats.

A beautiful solid black wolf skidded to a halt between himself and Inadu, a menacing growl overpowering the screams of dying witches. Hope's wolf lunged forward, the hair on her back raised. Klaus screamed out when Inadu lifted her hands and Hope fell lifelessly to the ground. He watched in horror as her wolf form slowly transformed back to human.

“To your feet child. It is time to end this,” Inadu sneered.

Hayley's wolf leapt from behind but was tossed like a rag doll with a loud yelp before her neck was snapped with a loud crack. Hope stood unsteadily to her feet and silently clenched her fists. Klaus inched towards her, eyes trained on the remaining witches easing their way closer. He could take out four or five of them on his own before inevitably ending up like Elijah and Hayley and he could not leave his daughter to fight alone.

“What do you want?” Hope asked. If she was frightened, she did not appear so. If she was embarrassed about standing in the nude in front of so many, she never showed a hint of it in her readied stance.

“To kill you of course. Balance must be restored,” Inadu stated lowly, bringing Hope to her knees with only a look. Hope cried out when Inadu hissed a stream of words. Klaus stood frozen in horror as blood dripped from seemingly hundreds of tiny cuts all over her body. In no time, Hope was covered in slick crimson, filling the air with sweetened fresh blood.

He had to do something. Klaus hoped his daughter understood proper times to strike an opponent because he was about to create quite the diversion. He wolfed out for the first time in decades, snarling and charging through the remaining witches.

Blood sprayed from his bites and heads rolled. All but two were dead before Inadu turned towards him to strike. He charged and put everything he had into attacking her, but he fell to the ground in pain. Before his neck was snapped, Hope acted.

Klaus felt the ground beneath his body as he willed himself back into human form. He watched Hope on all fours, grasping the earth and dripping blood eyes dark with determination. Lightning cracked through the sky in a brilliant display, he could feel the hair on his neck stand up.

The smell of burning flesh invaded his nostrils, inducing nausea and unease. The lightning had zapped the remaining two witches; they crumbled to the ground in ash and bone. Hope raised her hands just as Inadu raised hers and there was so much energy being dispelled between the two witches that Klaus was thrown back. Wind picked up and even with all of his vampire strength he could not fight his way any closer to his daughter.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Hope could feel the slip of control as despair reigned. She just didn't have the power to protect everyone. Her insides felt like ice and her eyes clouded as they dripped blood. She felt the thick crimson stream in her ears, tasted it from her nose. There was an echo to the droplets hitting the tops of her feet like red paint. Made her think of Jonathon Bradley. And her father.

Her mother's screams were the loudest. Hope was scared by her parent's guttural cries. It could only mean that she was losing. It started looking the way Henry's old television would when Hope and Ada skipped class to watch old westerns. The colors started off fine, but then they'd just fade into gray. It was like that now, staring at Edith's triumphant smile and watching the trees bend in the background- but in gray scale.

There was a pressure in her ears and then it was as if the sound went out too. The dizziness hit and she realized she was on her knees and everything hurt. This was it. Hope concentrated on pulling from everything she could; the moon, earth, the life energy from living creatures big and small for miles...she could feel it all. Who knew all this was at her fingertips or that it wouldn't be enough to defeat all this evil.

Suddenly her hands were being gripped and another surge of power was all she needed. Lizzie and Josie stood on either side of her, their hair blowing ferociously in the wind. Hope couldn't let them do this, but their power was strong...surprisingly so.

It took everything and most of the twins power before Hope shoved them away from her with her magic to spare their lives. The building magic was expelled towards Inadu and Hope smiled when the pain was gone and the last thing she saw was The Hollow bursting into blue flames from the melting human form.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hope wouldn't wake up. She wasn't breathing. Hayley couldn't move as Klaus switched between dripping blood down Hope's motionless throat and blowing air into her lungs. Caroline had to stop him after seemingly forever passed. Hope just wasn't waking up.

“No,” he said simply, shaking his head.

“No,” Hayley agreed firmly. Her daughter would wake. She had to.

Ada cried softly in the corner but Hayley was too frozen in fear and teetering grief to comfort her. Caroline draped a blanket over Hope's blood covered bare body, leaving her pale face exposed. Klaus threw a chair through a window.

Alaric edged into the room with Lizzie and Josie at his side. He put a hand on Caroline's shoulder and whispered loud enough that Hayley heard, “Freya is still out but she's alive. We don't know why we can't wake her or reach her.”

“Anything about Rebekah?” Klaus asked. He must have been listening too. Hayley watched him place a trembling hand on Hope's forehead.

Ric nodded slowly, “Yeah. I spoke with Marcel. Rebekah is in the same state as Freya and he wants to talk when you're ready.”

The sun started to rise and that's when Hayley realized just how long her little girl had been gone. Hours they sat waiting for some sort of vampire miracle to occur. This was the worst pain Hayley had ever been in.

Elijah stumbled into the room, looking disoriented and drawing everyone's attention from Hope's motionless form on the couch. Before he could open his mouth to speak, a loud gasp sounded from Hope's lips.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Ch. 9**

**song rec:** _**Pure** _ **by Trevor Something**

 

* * *

 

Hope blinked her eyes open slowly, squinting away from the sharp glare of sunlight. Flexing her fingers, she found that she was laying flat on her back in a swarm of tall grasses and wildflowers. There was no sound here, no birds singing or bugs buzzing. The trees stood still like they were made of plastic, looming and still. This made Hope very nervous. She didn’t like when things weren’t as they seemed.

“There you are!” A woman’s face briefly blocked the sun. Hope’s eyes widened, knowing immediately who hovered above her. “Come, come,” Esther chirped, grasping Hope’s elbow and tugging her to her feet.

The grass stretched seemingly forever, broken up by patches of trees and the slope of hills. It wasn’t warm or cold, even though the sun was brighter than the hottest summer sun back home. Hope knew she wasn’t supposed to be here and her hands began to shake. Esther grasped them in her own and gave her a mild look of concern.

“Do not be frightened, you will return home soon enough. But first, there is someone I’d very much like for you to meet,” her grandmother smiled.

Hope trailed behind Esther, eyes watching her long golden braid swing like a pendulum across her back. She knew her grandmother and Aunt Dahlia died after a failed attempt against their family, but nobody knew where their afterlives resided. This place lacked way too much for it to be somewhere Hope wanted to end up. The disconnect from her surroundings was suffocating, no matter how expansive the land and sky seemed.

Hope spoke, her voice sounding strange here; hollow and flat. “Am I dead?”

Esther turned towards another patch of trees, and picked up her pace. She called over her shoulder, “Yes, but fret not, you will return. You will all return.”

“All?” Hope raised her eyebrow, stepping over a fallen tree; _if nobody is around to hear it fall, did it make a sound?_

Esther pointed towards a cottage that sat beneath a tall and motionless oak. Hope wondered how all these acorns littered the path if there was no wind to pluck them free or any squirrels to jostle them to the ground. The closer Hope and her grandmother approached, the more in focus the sight of her aunts laying motionless in a circle of salt became. A little boy sat with them, quietly weaving wildflowers into their hair. He looked up when they were close enough that she could reach out and touch him.

Hope bit her lip and peered at him, wondering if maybe she died and fell into a moment of time. That boy had to be her father as a kid, he looked so much like him it was weird. He cocked his head and scanned her face with bright blue eyes. His hair was dark though, Hope realized. So it couldn’t be her father as she was told he had been a blonde like Rebekah.

“What’s your name?” Hope asked softly, kneeling down to feel Freya’s pulse. It was steady.

“Henrik,” he responded politely. Hope’s eyes widened. Wow, she really was dead if she was here with her grandmother and uncle that passed away long ago. She stuck a flower behind his ear, wishing her father could be here now to see him. Henrik grinned and Hope felt like she could count his freckles all day. It was too bad he never got to stick around, maybe he would have been the one Mikaelson she wouldn’t disappoint.

“My name is Hope, I’m your family too,” she smiled at him. He was dirty from a day of playing it looked like, his bare toes caked in mud and a pile of plucked flowers and pebbles in his lap .

Esther thrust open the door to the cottage, beckoning for them to join her inside. Hope glanced down at her aunts, a nagging feeling of unease tugging at her chest. They shouldn’t be here. Hope killed Inadu before anyone else had died, so they were safe. Maybe this was a really really vivid dream or maybe they were trying to contact her in this weird place and that’s as far as they got?

“Why are they here? Why aren’t they awake like me?” Hope asked, helping Henrik to his feet. He kept a hold of her hand as they entered the cottage, tugging away when he spotted his toys in the corner.

Esther lit a fire in the stone fireplace. It crackled and popped but Hope felt no warmth. Esther replied, “They are neither here nor there just as we are neither here nor there. My daughters are assisting as anchors for your return.”

Henrik approached, reaching for Esther with a loud cough, whimpering and burying his face into her long skirt.

“Is he sick?” Hope asked, noticing he was much paler than before.

“I am afraid so, though it will be a blessing when he passes on to the next life. He suffers here in this in between place. But not for long, hm Henrik?” The boy ignored her and sat at her feet.

Hope knelt down and felt the boy’s head. “So I’m not staying here?” He’s burning hot and Hope can’t fight the urge to protect him. Why would he suffer in his afterlife? It wasn’t fair, he was just a kid.

Esther scooped him up and started swaying him gently, “No, you are merely waiting for the full moon to end. You will be returned to your body just as you were, only new.”

Hope crossed her arms, worrying her lip. “New? Will I wake as a vampire?”

“You were born as much a vampire as you will ever be. No, you will wake as something much more.”

Frustration bubbled in her gut like milk on a sour stomach, “But will I be the same? I don’t understand.” Hope didn’t want to be a vampire before she got to grow up more. A teenager forever? No thanks.

Her grandmother continued, laying Henrik down into his bed. “You will wake needing blood, just as a vampire should. Though, it will have to be that of your line. Your mother is the only one so far turned with your blood.”

Dread and loss flooded Hope’s lungs. “I’ll lose my magic,” she croaked.

“You were born as all three, and all three you will remain. Three is a very important number, as a witch…you understand that,” Esther explained. It was interesting, the way she talked reminded Hope a lot of Uncle Elijah. So calculated and matter of fact but with a sense of gentle comfort.

Esther continued, drying her hands on her apron, “Do you know what makes a god or goddess, child? Immortality and the ability to create life in your image. In a way you could call your father, aunts and uncles gods except that they must take a human’s life to create them into something new. Similarly, werewolves must take a life to become their beast selves. It is rare something occurs naturally with the gift to give without taking. Though, nature always finds a way to reestablish balance. You were a product of such efforts.”

“What will I be exactly? I just triggered my werewolf curse and I died performing magic. If I wake up and drink blood, then what?” Hope could barely get through life without screwing it all up before so she couldn’t imagine what was in store for her now.

“You will be all three in their truest and intended form. A vampire who can live forever with just a drop of blood on every full moon, a werewolf who is alpha to them all, and a witch who has unlimited access to her powers. You are a triple goddess and you have much to do.”

Suddenly Henrik started crying, reaching towards Hope as she was blinded by light before engulfed in darkness.

 

Hope felt like she was on fire as she gasped for air, coated in blood and feeling so panicked, that she wished she had remained dead with Henrik under the silent and still trees. Her parent’s arms were so tight around her that she could barely assure them that she was alright.

 

* * *

 

 

Things moved fast in the weeks to come. Hayley had barely seen Klaus after they packed up and left for New Orleans the moment Hope completed her transition. Hayley didn’t believe it was possible, but Hope hadn’t needed a drop of blood since. In fact, she hadn’t needed much of anything. Hayley wasn’t sure whether or not it was all the stress manifesting into new unhealthy habits, or if Hope genuinely didn’t need things like food and blood anymore to remain living.

Hayley glanced towards her daughter. She looked fine -great, really. Her eyes were bright and alert, cheeks rosy and full. Hope still had that healthy teenage figure that weeks of barely eating would have had an impact on before. It had to be the transition, a tribrid thing.

“Why do I feel like stabbing you in the eye right now?” Hope muttered towards the television. Hayley looked up to see the police chief on the news. He was expressing a concern over the spike in vandalism to their historic buildings and landmarks.

Hayley watched Hope stretch further out on the velvet couch, tossing her arms behind her back. “I hate it here,” Hope reminded her for the hundredth time. “I miss Ada and the little kids from school.”

If only Hope would give this place a chance, but since settling in she had done nothing but hide out from her father and complain. She did that though, when she was recovering from a fuck up; pushed people away and put the focus on something that was happening to her. It was hard to explain to Klaus, he was of course taking it personally. Though, Hayley hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk one on one about it, resorting to texts and brief chats on the phone.

Hayley turned off the t.v. and replied, “The full moon is soon, you’ll feel that way for a while. If you thought PMS was bad…”

“Please turn that back on. I can’t stand to hear the sounds of this place. It’s like you don’t care at all that I feel like shit here. I want my own place outside of the city.” Hope sounded too much like the version of Klaus Hayley loathed. Whiny Mikaelson babies when things weren’t going exactly as they wanted, the both of them.

Hayley chucked the remote control across the room, knowing good and well that Hope wouldn’t get up and walk her lazy ass to the t.v. to turn it back on. “No. Get used to it. I do care but you are the one choosing to feel miserable. And hell no.”

Hope let out a growl and rolled off the couch to trudge out of the room. She barely grunted a reply when Klaus passed her down the hall before entering the sitting room.

“Hayley,” he greeted, stalking up to the drink cart. He looked like shit, but that happens when you’re trying to torture information from handfuls of people a day.

She twisted in her chair so she could watch him, asking, “Marcel cooperating yet?”

Klaus clanked his glass heavily down, yanking the cap off the decanter. “No,” he grunted. The sweetly spiced scent of bourbon stung her nostrils; he had busted out the good kind. She watched him fill his glass higher than usual, drinking down half of it before thrusting it into her hand.

“You are highly trainable,” Hayley joked with a smile.

“What?” he asked sharply.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, “nothing.”

His mind obviously somewhere else, he started pacing the room, hands grasped behind his back. The bourbon hit the spot and she grew warm in the cheeks. She startled a little when he jabbed a finger into the air like a sword and thundered, “he won’t even let me see her alone or put her somewhere safer. She lies there in that dirty decaying cemetery when she could at least be here with me.”

“He’s just enjoying the power, let him. It’ll distract him when we finally get Elijah’s compelled memories. Speaking of…” Hayley trailed off, knocking back the rest of the drink. She was going to need it.

He stopped short, folding his arms across his chest and jutting his chin out in that way that used to annoy her. “Yes, what?” he quipped with a tilt of his head.

“We just aren’t getting anywhere with that.We need someone more powerful. Davina can’t even do it. It’s…”

He cut her off with a shake of his head and glower. “Do not even suggest it. She is to never see him again.”

Hayley wet her lips, throwing her hands up, “I mean fucking hell Klaus, I hate this too, but it’s going to have to be Hope.”

Klaus turned his back to her, staring up at the ceiling. “Absolutely not.”

“We can be there, she doesn’t have to be alone with him. I thought you’d like to watch him suffer a bit at her hands. And we get to the bottom of this mystery along with a way to bring your sisters back. Nobody has been able to find and reverse his compulsion.” Hayley swallowed nervously and just spit it out, “look, are you even sure he’s still under compulsion?”

His jaw muscles twitched before he snapped, “how many times do I have to tell you? During the attack, Elijah recognized the witch who Inadu was inside of. He called her Edith and now he has no recollection of this or of anyone by that name. He does not have control yet, Hayley, I can feel it. Something is not right and I will not lead my daughter into harm’s way again.”

“There are no other options. We will protect her during her time spent drawing out the compulsion, not that she needs it as I’m pretty sure you’re more worried about punishing him than that he’s actually going to hurt her.”

Klaus tossed her a look, but softened when their eyes met. He grabbed the empty glass out of her dangling hand, blinking away. Once at the drink cart, he said in a tone thick with malice, “I hate that Marcel has the power. As if holding my sister’s body hostage will keep him safe from us all. He had something to do with all of this that goes far beyond protecting his precious city. Yet he stares at me with that arrogant smirk, not even pretending to have an answer as to why he set Inadu’s pieces free. He said he’d answer that when he was ready.”

Hayley bristled. “Asshole. Who the hell does he think he is?”

Klaus nodded emphatically, “precisely!”

The sound of Hope’s music blared from her room, causing Klaus’s shoulders to sag. Hayley just smiled. She was used to the sounds of teenage girl. It was fun watching him adjust to just how big of a presence Hope could be. But what was the most fun was knowing who both father and daughter truly were when they were not around one another and watching them hold back so much when they were. Hope never whined near Klaus, kind of like he never commanded her around like he did everyone else.

“Hey,” Hayley began cautiously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “maybe we could try what the therapist suggested and start doing something as a family once a week. To, you know, establish a bond and make her feel safe here.”

He turned away from her, voice low, “Is she still so very unhappy here? As if this large home and intrepid city life is not enough for a young girl?”

Hayley gnawed at her thumbnail. “I think she’s too proud to admit that this place still scares her. You know, she won’t cross onto that side of the courtyard where it all happened or even go into her old room.”

He faced her again and frowned, “I wondered why she chose Freya’s old room. I just assumed she liked the bathroom better.”

“It is a better bathroom,” Hayley shrugged. “But, no. This place holds a lot of bad memories for her. And you know how sensitive her magic leaves her. Imagine how that feels now with it all so heightened. She shouldn’t even have access to magic, it’s unheard of. And the one drop of blood every full moon thing?” Hayley was babbling but this shit made her nervous.

Klaus stood closer, his eye contact game strong. Hayley felt her stomach flip a little. She thought maybe once they were back and all this crap kept them busy, it would start to feel the way it had before. The first night they were back, Hayley slept with Hope because she was scared. After a week of that, Hayley moved back into her old room that still smelled like Elijah if she really scented the area.

“I will buy her and you a home near the bayou if you will both be happier there.”

“And where are you in that equation?”

“With my family of course, but-”

She grabbed his face with both hands and yanked it forward. He looked surprised and listened intently when she stated, “but nothing. We do not split up anymore. No houses on the bayou if this is where you think we are safest.”

When she dropped her hands, he kept just as close and said, “we are safest together. Would you be happier living somewhere else or not?”

Hayley hooked a finger into the necklace dangling from his neck and said, “before getting knocked up and hitting the baby daddy jackpot, I thought I was doing good for myself to sleep somewhere other than in the woods or in a stranger’s bed. My happiness is only tied up in my daughter’s, I don’t care where I am as long as she’s safe and happy. I know you feel the same.”

“I do,” he agreed with a nod.

Hayley startled when Hope breezed into the room, clearing her throat loudly. Klaus took a step back, his necklace tugging against Hayley’s finger before dropping against his chest with a thud.

“Sweetheart,” he greeted softly.

Hope offered him a brief nod and some sort of grimace-smile before turning her attention onto Hayley. “I’m going to bed.”

“It’s not even nine yet,” Hayley said skeptically.

Hope shrugged and looked at her phone as if she hadn’t noticed. “I plan on getting up really early tomorrow to check out the street fair.”

Bruno meandered into the room, his tail lazily swinging and nose leaving a trail of moisture on the hardwoods. Klaus flashed over when the dog’s tail knocked a sculpture from its stand, catching it with a look of annoyance.

Hope pointed towards the hall, commanding, “out!” Bruno ducked his head and turned slowly, exiting with little haste. She shot Klaus an apologetic smile before bidding them both goodnight. As soon as Hope’s bedroom door could be heard clicking closed, Klaus turned his attention back on Hayley.

Arching an eyebrow, he asked, “would you like to join me on my balcony for a night of heavy drinking?”

Hayley shrugged.“Why the hell not.”

 

* * *

 

Luckily, her parents were obnoxious drinkers and made enough noise for Hope to slip out undetected. She’s been doing it for weeks, joining tourists at bars she knew her family wouldn’t go to and in locations that weren’t within usual supernatural territory.

“This seat taken?”

Hope looked up to eye the man dressed in a charcoal v-neck and denim slacks. So, maybe she was overdressed. Aunt Rebekah’s Chanel mini dress was way too sexy on Hope for her to pass up. Henry would have loved it and it made her feel older and like somebody else. She liked the attention, honestly. It wasn’t like she needed praise, it was more the excitement of it all. People fascinated her -men especially.

She flashed a smile, hoping she didn’t have lipstick on her teeth. “Go right ahead. But I’m going to get out there and dance after I finish this shot.”

The guy was cute in a nerdy sort of way. Late twenties at most with auburn hair and a crooked smile. Hope let him buy her another shot before they danced closely near the back wall, allowing him to press his body against places that helped her forget everyone she lost or hurt for a little while.

After she suckled at his lower lip he asked, “what’s your name?”

Hope felt pretty drunk at this point. She had a glass of scotch she finished off in her room before sneaking out to the bar and hadn’t stopped drinking since. It felt good to feel so detached and happy. It hadn’t happened yet, but maybe she’d risk sleeping with a stranger tonight.This guy wasn’t exactly her type but he was an excellent kisser, using a little tongue and moaning when she teased with her own.

She was about to lie and make up some name she could laugh about later like ‘Kiki’ or ‘Cherry’ but a familiar voice sliced through the pulse of music.

“Hope Mikaelson…well, well.”

Keeping her arms around the guy’s neck, she glanced over and drawled, “Marcellus…”

He looked exactly the same as she remembered, though now he peered at her without that soft expression adults usually wore with kids. This time it didn’t seem like they would sit around and chat about her favorite cartoons. This time, he convinced her it was in her best interests to join him in private conversation.

There was a shiny and sleek sports car taking up two parking spots outside the bar that they slid into. Hope flipped down his mirror to survey how Rebekah’s make up was faring from all the kissing, drinking, and dancing. Not bad at all. And massive pat on the back for how well she did her winged eyeliner this time.

Marcel blared something with heavy bass as they wove through traffic back towards his place. She could feel the beat in her teeth and it went well with her liquor buzz. Well, she was more than buzzed at this point. So much so that she really wasn’t nervous about putting herself into this position with her fake adopted brother. It’s not like she had much of a choice anyway. He was stronger and more powerful…in theory. Hope hadn’t put her new goddess abilities to the test, she’d just been enjoying feeling the perks of drinking heavily with little to no hangovers in the mornings.

The exposed brick walls in his loft were bare and all of the furniture was grouped together off to the side of the large space. Hope strolled over to the bar he had set up near the couch that seemed too fancy for the room.

Tucking a strand of straightened hair behind her ear, she asked, “do you have any bourbon?”

Without answering, he maneuvered around her to reach for the bottle she’d been eying. It was expensive and nearly gone, which was why she asked for it.

They clinked glasses together and she watched him as he took a gulp. Maybe she was a little nervous. From what she understood, her dad wasn’t able to get Marcel to give him any answers concerning his role in Inadu’s attack or Rebekah and Freya’s. She wondered if that meant he’d be willing to give her more to go on out of some sort of faux-sibling bonding thing.

“Great place,” she said, eying the tall glass and rusting steel beamed ceilings. She could see the moon and stars glowing prettily straight above their heads.

“Great dress,” he replied. Hope’s gaze snapped to his in surprise. He cocked his head and went on, “I’d ask if Rebekah knew you were wearing it but…”

She set her glass down on top of the bookshelf and wondered what angle to take with him. She could be blunt and demanding or charming and sensual. Or maybe a mash up of all those things. It was hard to tell, Hope didn’t know him well enough yet.

“Where are you keeping my Aunt Rebekah. And why?” He said nothing, just crossed his arms and kept on staring so she asked, “are you going to tell me how to bring her back or what?”

“Wish I could.”

“So what, you don’t want to answer my questions but you bring me to your place…you going to show our dad who’s boss in new and inventive ways?”

He stiffened, and she probably wouldn’t have caught it if she weren’t a fully activated tribrid. It was incredible how many more facial expressions and body movements she could pick up on now with this enhanced body.

“I don’t hurt kids,” he snapped dully, shedding his sports coat and tossing it to the couch.

Hope ran her finger along the bar top as she made her way behind it. Rummaging through his collection, she plucked a bottle of scotch. “Who says I’d let you hurt me?” She could tell she shocked him, that stupid smile frozen on his face. “I’m no kid Marcellus Gerard. Not anymore.”

He reached for the bottle but she evaded him with a grin; he said, “let me tell you a story, Princess.”

Hope took the bottle and sat on his couch, crossing her legs, the skirt lifting high enough his eyes jerked towards her exposed thigh. “Are you going to tuck me in too?” she asked against the rim of the bottle.

He ignored her and droned on, “once upon a time, your arrogant son of a bitch uncle ripped my heart from my chest, with the intention of permanently ending my life-”

“-But here you are…yes, I know the story of your magnificent rebirth and the take back of the city that followed. If it weren’t for my mom, most of my family would be dead.”

Marcel sat next to her and explained, “It’s not my murder or my resurrection that is the focus of this story, little sis. This is about what happened in between the two.”

The scotch burned her throat so her words came out husky, “I’m listening…”

“I wake in a grassy field after feeling the cold grip of death at Elijah’s hand. I’m dead but in this strange place where there’s no wind and you can’t feel the sun.”

Hope almost dropped her glass. She hadn’t told anybody what she saw or heard. Only that she saw Freya and Rebekah and understood they were anchors for her life. She didn’t tell her family that she saw Esther and Henrik or that the reason she didn’t need blood very often was because she was different than everyone else.

He continued in his warm tones that echoed in the large loft space, “I’m led to a cottage by Esther Mikaelson where I find a young woman laying in a circle of salt underneath a tree.”

Hope wondered why Marcel didn’t mention Henrik. She decided not to bring him up. Knowledge was power and secrets couldn’t spill if she never made them known.

“Who was the woman?”

“Her name was Edith and she was there as an anchor for my return.”

Edith as in Elijah’s Edith from France? Hope’s heart was pounding and mind racing through possibilities.

He continued, “Esther told me I’d meet Edith one day and find her to be one of the most powerful seers left alive. As a seer, she had the most interesting stories to tell about the future of your family.”

“So you and her worked together to free Inadu and have me killed? Is that it?”

“Yes and no. You had to die for what was seen to fall into place, but I knew you’d come back. I knew you’d see Esther too.”

“And you trust her?”

He let out a bark of laughter, “hell no, but I trust in Edith’s visions. She believed them so much that she offered her body to Inadu, knowing you would kill her. It was how her story ends, that’s what she’d tell me. I promised I’d look after Elijah in return. They had a thing.”

“You compelled Elijah to work for Rosine and the Quarter witches to trick my parents into thinking he was being controlled by Inadu. But why this whole thing about you not hurting kids if you compelled him to do all that with me.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“The pictures, bloodsharing, pretty much implying things would progress sexually if my parents didn’t give up a piece of Inadu that he didn’t even want or need…”

“I tell you what kiddo, I’ll let you decide what you really think of the noble Elijah. I only compelled him to forget he had a family and to make sure you and your parents believed that he was being controlled by The Hollow. I made it clear that he could not hurt you or let anyone else hurt you. The rest? Well, that was his choice.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“You’d pull it out of him eventually and this saves you some time. I know you have the dagger and I know you understand the importance of withholding information from your father. I trust you understand what I’m saying?”

“What is the dagger for?”

“Making Elijah whole again. But first, I need you to do some homework. Tomorrow is the full moon. Go see Elijah at nightfall and give him this.” He handed her an envelope with pressed wax. “It’s spelled, only a drop of his blood can open the seal. Top secret and all. Don’t get any ideas, this is important.”

“How the hell do you expect me to get anywhere close to Elijah tomorrow? My dad has him watched constantly and the only reason I got out tonight was because I’m an excellent liar and also because I’m fairly certain my parents are fucking as we speak.”

“It’s taken care of, just be smart and pay attention.”

Hope took the envelope and stuffed it into her purse. He put his hands heavily on her bare shoulders and peered into her eyes. She watched them dialate as he instructed, “do not tell Elijah that Edith is dead. Promise to help find her and lead him around until I say it’s time to stop.”

Hope nodded and walked slowly out of his loft, heels clicking hollowly down the bricked in stairwell that spilled onto the street. She pulled a cigarette from her purse and lit it at the street corner, ignoring the guys who honked and catcalled as she put her phone to her ear.

“Hey Lizzie, I have an assignment for you and Josie.” She paused and blew out a billow of smoke, waiting for approval. Josie got onto the phone and eagerly asked for more details.

Smiling, Hope took another drag and spoke through her exhale, “find out as much as you can about the woman who Inadu took over during the attack. Just blood spells and word of mouth, I want you two safe. If it requires extra work get one of the wolf boys to go do it, I’ll ensure they are rewarded.”

“On it. Anything else?”

“Just that her name is Edith and she’s a powerful seer. I want to know anything you can find, no matter how small.”

After they hung up, Hope finished her cigarette against a bike rack. Turning her gaze up to the nearly full moon, she muttered, “well, I guess I can add this to my triple goddess pros list -can’t be compelled, not even by Marcel.”

 

* * *

 

 

“What do you suppose he's doing in there?” Klaus mused, swirling ice in his glass noisily. A warm breeze reached them at the balcony off of his bedroom. Hayley breathed in deep, taking in the summer air; thick with day old rain soaking into the streets and soil.

Hayley shifted on her feet, her forearms digging into the metal railing. Klaus loved to people watch like a dog. She smiled, glancing down at Bruno who stared at the passerby's between Klaus's parted legs. A lion and his pet.

Klaus criticized darkly, “he just tucks himself away in there as if weathering a storm. As if it will all just blow away.” A car horn jerked his and Bruno's attention, but Hayley's eyes remained on Elijah's apartments. It was where she once lived with Jackson and where she believed she could create something beautiful. Didn't matter how much she'd had to toughen up since childhood, she still curled up and cried over all that was taken and lost through the years. She wondered if Klaus still cried for his losses...if he had cried again over Elijah.

Hayley lifted the wine bottle to her lips and drank it like it was merely piss-water beer. The goal was to get drunk, not to savor the- she scanned the label's description -the _hints of fresh dark fruity zest._ Gross but she needed something other than liquor for a change, mainly because she didn't want to get sloppy drunk in this state of mind.

“I don't think he's hiding. He's ashamed,” Hayley reminded Klaus.

He turned his piercing gaze onto her. “Look at you already defending him. I wondered how long it would take.”

“I won't drink with you anymore if you start with that bullshit,” she warned, wiping a droplet of wine from the corner of her mouth.

“Never that...” He simpered lowly. A hint of a smile tugged his full lips and it was then that she noticed the scruff growing in and the weariness to his eyes. Vampires couldn't age but that didn't mean they couldn't wear. Nothing a little blood and sleep wouldn't help with. Not that Hayley was doing much better. Hope seemed to be doing okay, considering everything...but she always seemed okay and rarely did it mean that she actually was.

A light flicked on in the main space of Elijah's apartments. She didn't know why but her heart jumped with adrenaline. Thinking about him made her jumpy and upset but Klaus just seemed withdrawn and focused on his internal dialogue. Sometimes it would seep out, streams of words and thoughts that didn't want a response, just a space to take up. Hayley wondered what would happen if she said everything floating around in her mind.

They drank and drank, staring in stony silence at the thick curtains blocking their view of what Elijah was up to in there. Was he drinking too? Having one of his cigars that smelled like spiced vanilla and left his lips slightly sweetened? Or was he crying for his losses, sunken to the floor where she last keened over Jackson's death?

Goddammit.

Klaus gently slid his arm around her waist and tugged her close. “No tears tonight Little Wolf...”

“It's the moon,” she lied, taking the last gulp of wine and leaning into his warm side. Hayley grimaced at the empty bottle, adding, “I need more.”

More was an understatement but Klaus understood and provided. They tore through another merlot and emptied his flask in silence and guzzles. She ended up so drunk that everything seemed like a good idea and nothing seemed unsolvable. Liquid courage at its finest...or at its most dangerous depending on how one looked at it.

“Are you as drunk as I?” Klaus asked. His eyes were closed and chin pointed towards the night sky.

“I'm not sure. Let me check,” she mumbled with a smile. He peeked at her with one eye open. She howled at the moon and he let out a laugh before she finished. Klaus joined in and their joint efforts littered the open streets and breezeways with baying howls and cackling laughter.

Without giving it much thought, Hayley chucked the empty wine bottle towards Elijah's balcony. It shattered in a deafening tinker of raining shards of glass. Fuck him. Fuck all of this.

Hayley grabbed Klaus's arm, biting back another wave of laughter when Elijah flung open his french doors and glowered.

“Will you two kindly take the noise inside or perhaps join your kin at the bayou?”

Klaus shrugged nonchalantly, asking Hayley loudly, “what do you say love? Shall we make a lot of noise inside instead?” She knew he was trying to hurt Elijah in the worst way he knew how, putting the thought in his head of what kinds of noises they could make behind closed doors.

Images of Elijah's fingers digging into Hope's skin caused Hayley's throat to tighten. Staring down Elijah and still bristling from his werewolf kin comment, Hayley laced her fingers into Klaus's and tugged him inside.

 

* * *

 

“What do you do, paint any girl who’s willing after you sleep with them?” Hayley asked, surveying yet another image of a woman sprawled in Klaus's sheets. They were trying to sober up now that they decided their moods didn't suit extreme inebriation any longer. He had led her to his art studio in the large attic space to pass some time.

Klaus replied over the sounds of his rummaging in the closet. “Sometimes. If they evoke a certain sense of inspiration and creativity.”

“I see…” Hayley walked up behind him and wondered what he was gathering.

He turned around grasping several tubes of paint. “But the ones I really like, I paint as if they were the canvas and not the subject.”

“Huh?”

A nefarious grin pushed dimples into both his cheeks. It was fucking adorable and she felt like a stupid school girl about it. No. Worse. She felt like looking into his eyes as she came -like she wanted him to make her feel something more. Alcohol was the devil, Hayley was sure of it.

“Would you like me to demonstrate?” he asked lightly, “I think it only fair I warn you that this will require a blank canvas…as in little to no clothing required.”

“You want...to paint _on_ me?”

Klaus offered a simple shrug, “it amuses me,” and maneuvered around her to retrieve a cup of paint brushes. “Stand there,” he added, pointing to the middle of the room.

Hayley obeyed out of curiosity...among other things. She fiddled with her fingers, eyes trailing after him as he shed his shirt and tossed it to the side.

She questioned, “and why do you have to be clothes-less too?” The room was stuffy and she was already damp with sweat from the call of a nearly full moon. He had already hooked up an oscillating fan that looked like it was from the beginning of time. It whirred and creaked obnoxiously, but damn if it didn't cool her right down.

Klaus chuckled and her toes warmed at the sight. Sauntering up to her and dragging a stool noisily across the wood flooring behind him, he replied, “things get a touch messy.”

Hayley was very quiet and still as he set up his paints and brushes on top of the stool. He started mixing certain colors into new shades, testing them out with little strokes of the brush to his own skin, exposing the smooth canvas of his forearm.

“Everything off to your level of comfort.”

Not one to care about nudity, she stripped quickly down to nothing. Hayley studied his expression when his sharp eyes lifted from his colors to survey her body. Klaus was good at making her feel like he was merely an artist and she a model. It was about the work. His eyes never hovered anywhere too long and he got straight to it.

He spoke as he swirled a paintbrush into a deep crimson, “I always liked you in red.” His eyes flicked up to meet hers, “are you ready?”

She nodded. The fan rotated and settled behind him, rustling his curls as he applied the first brushstroke above her right breast. Hayley sucked in a breath. It felt like a cold and wet finger tracing over her skin. Klaus made an identical stoke over the left breast, dragging it down to meet in a plunging v with the other. The hair on his wrist tickled against her peaked nipple and she caught him trying to hide a grin.

It felt kind of good the more she relaxed and the less unsure she felt. He worked quietly and carefully, using thicker and harder strokes around the curve of her chest. Kind of relaxing and erotic all at once, no wonder he pulled this artsy crap on girls.

“What exactly are you painting on my tits?”

“You will just have to wait and see. Now head up and eyes forward, your hair is getting in my way.”

Hayley obeyed, only moving to watch him once he lowered to his knees, paintbrush clacking between his clenched teeth as he used his fingertips to smooth and blend around her ribs. She peered down the length of his back as he had her twist her torso slightly. His dark jeans sat low and she started to feel kind of pervy at how into this she was getting. It didn't help that she could feel the heat of his breath between her legs every time he paused to re-wet his brush.

He spoke so softly she had to focus on the words. “Do you suppose I should accompany Hope to the street fair tomorrow?”

“You could try but I have a sneaking suspicion she won't be up as early as was implied. Pretty sure that was just speaking teenager for 'I don't want to spend anymore time with my family tonight so I'm going to bed',” Hayley explained, twitching when the paintbrush swept near her navel.

“I would very much like to make some sort of gesture to improve our relationship. Any ideas?” He motioned with a twirl of his finger in the air, “turn.”

Hayley faced the other way and yelped when the cold brush tip touched her ass cheek. She bit her lip and replied, “yeah actually. I think mending things with Ada would really help her move forward. She might feel as if she can't forgive you for Henry's death if her best friend is still suffering.”

He didn't answer but his hand stilled somewhere below the curve of her buttocks. Klaus let out a contemplative hum, “not a bad idea. I think I can work with that.”

The alcohol's effects were starting to fade and she was growing restless. And come to think of it, he had to know what painting on her like this would do to her this close to the full moon. She wondered if he could scent her arousal. Fucking hell.

His voice was so warm and smooth...gentle. “Calm down love.” He stood and took her by the hand, tossing his paintbrush into a bucket with a loud clatter. She followed him towards an ornate mahogany full length mirror in the corner of the dim room.

Her jaw dropped and she forgot to filter her response. But really, this was incredible. He had painted in detail a red corseted dress with black lacy trim. It actually looked real like it was just thin and tight as hell. The shading and lines were so detailed she started to feel like an ass for not appreciating this artsy stuff more.

“Well?” He stood behind her, peering over her shoulder into the reflection. She admired his work from different angles.

Hayley said earnestly and with an uninhibited smile, “You’re pretty amazing, you know that?” She would never forget the way his expression changed into something new. Not ever.

He ran his knuckles over her collarbone, and her heart raced wildly when he spoke, “you have a few options.”

She quickly cut in, “I am not wearing this out.”

He laughed and asked, “would you like me to finish or would you like to call it a night?”

Hayley didn't want either. What she wanted was his tongue everywhere that his paintbrush had swept across. It would change things. It would complicate things. She knew this. But she also knew what he felt like inside of her and that he liked to pull her hair the more she moaned.

Instead of answering and slipping away for the night, Hayley turned around and stared him in the eye. He knew. She could see it...feel it. It was like before, but stronger; an electric current prickling and buzzing between them. The attraction had always been there, and for some time it had been lost. But now...

“Strange how things come back around,” she mused, her fingers shaking slightly as they crept feather-like up his bare chest.

He cocked his head in question, his own fingers snaking around her lower back. Hayley licked her lips and continued, “me surrounded by your paintings and you asking if I'm staying or leaving...”

Klaus's fingers tangled into her hair when they pressed into one another like two clasping magnets. He tasted like bitter wine and had her against a wall in a flash. Hayley hit hard but she barely felt the wood panels scrape down her back as her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He kissed her deep and hard, growling into her mouth when she pressed and moved against the bulge in his pants.

Hayley shuddered and jerked as he cupped a breast and brought a nipple to his mouth. That was something he hadn't done the first time... It felt like every pinching nibble to her breast was like a flicker between her legs. His prickly face left her skin scratched and tender but it felt so good to _feel_ again. She truly needed this and hadn't realized how much until she was dripping wet and trembling under his touches.

Her nipple slipped from his lips at an exaggerated pace and the sounds she made were hopefully drowned out by the clanking whir of the fan that still rotated lazily behind them. Hayley swiped a thumb across his chin where paint smeared from her breast. He grabbed her wrist and placed a kiss at her palm, peering under golden eyelashes with a boyish look of...admiration? Something. Hayley couldn't tell. But like everything else lately, it was far more intimate than she was used to with him...and sometimes with anyone.

“Pardon the intrusion.”

Hayley and Klaus sprung apart so fast that she nearly fell on her ass. If it weren't for Klaus's reflexes, she would have. Elijah stood in the doorway, looking any where but at them. Next to him was Hope, wearing something that showed way too much skin and so drunk that she swayed and stumbled.

Elijah continued softly, “I found her down by the river. One of ours recognized her and couldn't reach either of you.”

“I didn't even drink that much,” Hope slurred, completely oblivious to the fact that her parents were moments away from fucking against a wall. “I'm just tired,” she added.

“Then get your ass to bed. In the morning, we are having a serious discussion Hope Mikaelson. You _promised_ you were done with this behavior,” Hayley hissed.

Elijah glanced towards her only to quickly look away. Oh right, she was naked. Paint clothes didn't exactly count.

“Leave us,” Klaus barked. Elijah turned briskly on his heel and left, not even pausing for more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Ch. 10**   
**Song rec: _Stole You Away_ by Benjamin Francis Leftwich**

* * *

 

**_The night before..._ **

Her face was streaked with tears muddied by makeup. Elijah sat on the damp ground aside her, draping his jacket over her shoulders in his descent. Her body jolted every now and then under shuddered breaths; that residue of despair that settled in one's chest festering long after the tears had stopped producing.

He placed a hand on hers, she felt like ice. He gently prodded, “what are you doing out here?”

Hope's eyes are barely open, she licked her lips and slurred, “I uh...I'm just really drunk, Uncle Elijah. I want to see Henry...to...to...feel again.” Her head started to droop and he began to worry she would pass out before he could return her home.

Elijah looked around, flexing his hearing. News of this could potentially harm his chances of reconciliation with his brother and Hayley; something he was becoming desperate for. He tugged at Hope's arm and commanded lowly, “come, let me get you home.”

She yanked her arm free, exclaiming, “he made me feel safe. You do not, uncle. Dad killed him and I'm just supposed to...to...” she gestured wildly, “-to just go to therapy and smile more and follow all these rules just to watch everyone hate everyone else. But I'm not allowed to hate you and my father for what you did to Ada's dad? To the only man I ever loved?” The entire city likely heard her, and now he could not find that he cared.

Clearly the girl needed more than what she was receiving and he was the only one left to notice. Though, he immediately felt remorse at the ill feelings towards Niklaus and Hayley. It was not their fault Hope was entirely too good at pretending things were improving. He did not blame them for seeking comfort from one another, even if in childish ways. It was a wolf behavior, surely. Rolling his eyes at himself, the truth tickled his gut. This likely couldn't be chalked up to their werewolf gene but to who they are as individuals. The truth was, they were alike in deeply ingrained ways which was why he believed he had taken so intensely to Hope's mother. A sick truth to others, perhaps, but Niklaus had understood that much. He had to.

Elijah listened, his eyes trained on Hope's face for the first time since she was a little girl. He watched the way she formed her words and the way each emotion flickered differently on her face that looked...-she was so much her father in her sorrow. Niklaus was all Elijah could see as Hope emptied her soul into the night air; unruly golden curls matting to her tear sodden cheeks and facial expressions he'd seen pass over Niklaus's face for centuries. It made Elijah's heart clench. He loved her...very much. Just as boldly and unmarred by the weather as was his love for his siblings.

Hope told him things like the way Henry's hair felt between her fingers when he'd fall asleep on her chest after making love, attempts at soothing away his guilt for loving her.

Elijah did not interrupt, even though the subject matter was more information than he desired from her, for she was speaking clearer and perking up the more she talked. Likely the vampire side metabolizing her blood alcohol content quickly away.

Hope leaned against him as if they were familiar, but quickly sat back up as if remembering that they were not. He supposed the last time they sat like this was when he comforted her after Hayley wouldn't let her resurrect a bird that broke its neck flying into their window. It had been awkward even then as they were both conflicted over his role as both uncle and mother's boyfriend. Now...well, now was far worse.

Presently, Hope hugged her knees and Elijah wondered where her shoes were. She looked over the river, eyes unfocused and voice soft, “He taught me...everything about being with a man. Maybe that's part of being lovers,” she glanced up at Elijah, “teaching each other everything you desire and then when that gets old, everything that hurts.”

He stood and offered his hand, he could not listen to more of this and she started shivering in the cool night air. It was peculiar that she transitioned but remained so much more like a human than vampire or wolf.

She dusted the dried grass and bits of coarse dirt from Rebekah's dress. It was ruined and he thought perhaps Hope had very little understanding of just how safe she actually felt if she knew she could get away with such things. His sister had killed for far less, but Hope was safe from her transgressions against any of them. She must know this, at least in some capacity.

As he tugged her up to a wobbly standing position, he stated, “I know it's hard to believe, but you will love another. There is much more to learn and experience.” He offered his elbow that she tucked her small hand against for balance.

As they made their way to his vehicle, Elijah stopping briefly to fish her shoes out of the tall grass, she asked, “do you miss being with mom?”

Elijah looked to the stars, they used to be calming in times of pain. A familiar in the forever changing landscape of people and time. He replied lowly, “every moment since my return.” Elijah felt her wince.

Hope's eyes remained at her feet as they walked past busy nightlife in the part of town crawling with vampires. Music pulsed from a nightclub notorious for feeding and...much more. He didn't like her being here; she may be stronger, but she was hardly in control. Again, she must feel safer than she realizes.

Hope mumbled with regret in her tone, “I'm sorry if I messed it all up for you two.”

“I did that all on my own. It's time to move forward.” The last thing he wanted to do was admit to her how very angry he was with how she chose to retaliate against them. Like a kick in the face, the images of Hope's blood and arousal shining at his sneer assaulted his memory. Daily he tortured himself with the unwanted loop of the way she sounded as she had gripped his hair.

Hope allowed Elijah to slip her shoes on, whispering, “we're going to be in trouble.”

“Yes, but even so, we must move forward.” He hoped he sounded more patient than he felt.

“Thanks Uncle Elijah...for listening.”

He surveyed her appearance before buttoning his jacket over the revealing ensemble. Not that he cared what she wore, as he considered himself a feminist, but given their current situation, her modesty was a must around him. There were eyes all over the city. He replied, “If it's all I can do for you, I hope it is enough.”

She rolled her eyes and raised her eyebrows as she asked, “haven't you heard? Nothing is ever enough for me. I use everything and everyone up until I'm full of them and they have nothing. Until they feel nothing for me.”

“That is a terribly inaccurate way to view yourself, niece.”

Wind whipped her hair around as she exclaimed, “I can feel it! I know you only love me because I am a part of them. You don't love me for who I am. Nobody does...or can.”

“It breaks my heart that you believe that,” he admitted, smoothing a damp strand of her from her chin and tucking it behind her ear, “I'll blame your statement on the alcohol, because you cannot possibly believe that.”

Hope stepped away from his touch and turned unsteadily to walk back towards the road. Elijah wondered, as he followed behind, how a girl could turn out so much like the father, who was not there most her life, as opposed to the mother that was. What sort of genetic thread coursed through his brother and niece to cause such self pitying attitudes when life got hard? Or was it because both had a rocky start with father figures? He was no psychoanalyst, nor would he pretend to be. Elijah would simply do for her as he had always done for his brother. Watch. Oversee. Guide.

Love unconditionally.

Upon arriving at the Abattoir and averting his eyes as Hope climbed the stairs in front of him, Elijah listened for her parents. Hope was far too clumsy in her steps for him to pinpoint their exact location over her noise, but eventually they were found.

It was not the sight of Hayley wedged between the wall and his brother, but the look on her face when she realized he was with Hope that really stung. Elijah existed in a time where Hayley was no longer his. He had a brother who could not even look him in the eye without a surge of pain behind his gaze. It was unbearable.

To love unconditionally, that was the truest burden.

* * *

 

 Klaus leaned slowly over Hayley, examining her sleeping face. His room was dim and stuffy, the early sun filtering through parted silk drapes. He put his lips close to her ear and gently blew, smiling when she mumbled and buried her head under his pillow.

“I'm going to get Hope out of the house for a while,” he murmured, resting his palm on her lower back. The full moon was tonight and she was already coated in a sheen of sweat, he could feel and scent the dampness through the thin fabric of her shirt.

Hayley's voice muffled, “good luck getting her up.”

“I do not require it, I let Bruno in. He's lapping at her face as we speak.” This at least earned him a chuckle. Patting her lightly, he stood and said, “shall I bring us back someone to eat?”

“No, not with Hope here.”

“You realize she is an eighteen year old tribrid who needs to learn how to feed correctly?”

Hayley kicked at the covers, freeing a leg. “She's not like us though, Klaus. She's different and doesn't need blood the way we do. Not so far, anyway. I don't like not knowing what she needs.” He couldn't help but trail his eyes up the back of her exposed thigh, remembering how good she had smelled last night as he painted on his knees.

Wetting his lips with a dart of his tongue, he stated, “naturally we must all figure that out together. There has never been a tribrid just as there was never a hybrid before myself. We will learn aside her and assist, but first, I need her to speak more than three words to me in a sitting.”

Hayley flipped over onto her back, tossing the pillow to the side. Pushing up onto her elbows, she reassured, “hey, she loves you. Give her time to heal. That was...a lot. This is a lot. And she's feeling the guilt of what happened with memory-less Elijah, you know?”

His eyes trained on her hardened nipples outlined beneath the shirt. “She knows I have forgiven her for her transgressions with that man.”

Hayley covered her chest with the pillow, reminding him, “she can feel what we feel towards her, remember?”

Klaus grabbed for the pillow but she blocked him with a foot. He grasped her by the ankle and bit at her big toe before replying, “I assure you, the only feelings she picks up from me are worry and an all encompassing need to hold her again.”

His face whacked to the side when she chucked the pillow at him. She said through a small laugh, “just talk to her. Work on that grand gesture. She's a good kid with a big heart and has way more in common with you than me.”

He wanted to sink her into the mattress; devour her for breakfast instead. But, Hope's heavy footfall reminded him that he had the most important job to do today. He really needed to earn her trust and that started with making her understand that he would never be leaving her again.

* * *

“So...you and mom, huh?” Hope nudged her sunglasses higher, the sun blazing through the tightly packed Bourbon Street. They were seated outside of a bakery, waiting for the coffee with hemp milk she ordered. Vendors were parked along, setting up tables; musicians already trilling and running notes.

“There wouldn't be a you without such a union,” Klaus reminded sharply, tugging her attention back from the festivities and onto his light blue stare. Hope could tell she'd struck a nerve in bringing up last night.

“That was some bad luck.” When he looked at her in question, she continued, “me, I mean. Getting mom pregnant was horrible luck.”

He couldn't even look her in the eye as he said it. But, then she realized he was only eyeing the waitress who appeared with her drink. He replied steadily as the cup clanked on its saucer in front of Hope, “you are the best thing to have ever happened to this family.”

She wanted to roll her eyes and remind him of how her existence has completely destroyed them all. She couldn't though, not with the way he kept looking at her like he could fall apart any second. The guilt and love towards her was coming off of him hotter than a humid Louisiana breeze. But now a hint of anger bubbled all around them and Hope wanted to run. How could she turn this off? This ability was so much worse now that she had transitioned into...a bigger mess? Is that what being a triple goddess was all about?

“Thank you,” she murmured towards the woman. Maybe humor with a dash of sucking up was the only route with her father. After a too-hot sip of her steaming cup, she said, “I want to learn how to paint clothing like that. Really nicely done. I thought Mom was wearing some weird thing out of Aunt Bek's closet at first.”

“No, it appears only you rummage through my sister's clothing.” He nodded towards her cup and asked shortly, “how is it?” Hope takes another sip and hums her appreciation.

The mention of Rebekah reminded Hope of her encounter with Marcel the night before. Her run in with Uncle Elijah hung heavy and extremely fuzzy in her memory. He'd been patient and kind, but she felt his detached feelings for her. He didn't trust her, that must be the feeling she couldn't quite define.

A tiny taupe droplet ran off her cup, hitting the white linen table cloth before she could stop it. Klaus checked his phone for the millionth time as Hope settled back in her seat, not sure what to say to the man she'd loved in a most painful way her whole life. It hit her hard sometimes how much she'd already messed up their chances at a relationship that had started off so beautiful. She was his princess and he was her king and now she was damaged goods and couldn't get past the death of Henry long enough to let her father in.

Hope heard his heart quicken when his phone buzzed on the table. He swiped it up before she could read the numbers that lit up the screen, reading a text silently. Setting it back down, she noted a shift in his posture, like a relaxed state of relief.

“Daughter, I would very much like for you to feel comfortable and happy here. I want us to...become close like before.”

“Like bond over mountains of pastries and stories of how awesome I'm going to be when I grow up? Well, I no longer enjoy sweets and I'm obviously the opposite of awesome...” Hope winced when she realized she spoke without thinking. Those were her favorite memories with her father and she spoke of them like they were disposable.

He looked down at his hands, and she didn't have to reach out with her powers to know he felt the sting of rejection. Even so, he lifted his eyes and stated, “I would like to see you with some friends and to perhaps include you in some relationships valuable to your future.”

That didn't sound so bad. Hope didn't want to burst his bubble and warn him she usually struck out fairly quickly in any and every relationship, so she agreed hesitantly, “um, okay...what do you have in mind?”

A boyish grin tugged at his handsome features she'd drawn a million times in her sketchbooks. “A party.”

Hope nodded slowly, trying to warm to the idea. A hidden favorite hobby of hers was pretending to be someone she wasn't in order to gain admiration.

Dancing around and shmoozing with NOLA's best sounded like a lot of fun considering she didn't care about any of them...so why should she care if her fake alter ego dazzled them instead? She played a lot of pretend growing up and it sort of stuck.

Tapping her chin she replied, “okay...I have heard some good things about your party throwing skills.” She wondered what sort of people he was looking to invite. Probably some her age that would be too scared to ask her out and zero attractive middle aged men who wouldn't be.

“Of course you have sweetheart, and only the best for you.”

It still made her heart feel a certain way when her father said things like that, she couldn't deny it. Forgiving him for Henry was slow but she knew she'd get there.

 

* * *

 

A soft knock on the door frame brought Hayley's attention away from the computer screen. Hope hovered in the entryway to Klaus's study, dressed in only a loose thigh length nightgown. Hayley wondered why she had less cute nightwear than her teenage daughter. Maybe that was normal.

Hope let out an exaggerated sigh, drumming her fingernails loudly on the wood. “It's too hot in my room, can I work on my grimoire in here?”

Hayley decided not to remind her it was because of the full moon and that every room would feel the same. Instead, she replied, “no weird spells please, just writing things down, yeah?”

The sun was starting to set and Hayley stretched, the old wing-backed roller chair creaking noisily. Klaus was still trying to call his guy about sending over some blood, she could hear him down the hall. Hope mumbled something and laid on the floor, propped on her elbows and scribbling away. Soon, Klaus strolled in to hover behind Hayley at his desk. She hated when he hovered, but right now she'd allow him anything because of how happy he and their daughter seemed after their morning together.

His palm heavy on her shoulder, he stated quietly, “It seems that Marcellus has put a hold on all blood bags because of the impending hurricane season. While I could sidestep his rules, I would rather keep in his good graces until my sister is returned to us.”

Hope glanced up from the floor, her ankles crossed and toes tapping in the air like when she was little with her coloring books. “You guys know I understand you have to eat people to live, right?” She raised her eyebrows when they stared wordlessly. Hope shrugged and went back to meticulously drawing a leaf pattern underneath neat handwriting.

Klaus's fingers absently traced Hayley's collarbone, she shivered at the feather-like touches and warmed at the scent of his skin; human and uniquely him. She wondered if he touched her in these ways because he felt that warmth and connection growing stronger every day the three of them were together, or if he simply wanted to finish what they started last night.

“Hope says you two had a good time?” Hayley prodded, powering off the computer. There was only so much she could research about the triple goddess symbol. It worried her that they still hadn't put together all the clues Elijah had left for them after taking Hope.

“We did. She found Doreen's Jazz to be magnificent and the artwork this year pulled in a lot of new talent. Hope purchased three paintings and made some young man's day.”

“And Dad's throwing me a party,” Hope added with a hidden smile.

Hayley bit her lip and replied slowly, “Is that so...” Not a surprising gesture but Hayley doubted it was grand enough to knock down the walls Hope fashioned out of anger and fear towards her father.

As if Klaus picked up on Hayley's reaction, he asked, “I thought it was past time to introduce Hope to our people here and from afar. She is the true heir to the city of course.” Hayley found it difficult not to roll her eyes, but managed better than Hope trying not to smile. He, of course, noticed.

With a wave of his hand, he retorted, “you'll both have fun and I expect you both to save me a dance.”

Hayley's phone buzzed as Klaus and Hope continued their light banter. A text from her guy at the bayou.

“Hey Klaus...we have a problem.”

He let out a huff and snapped, “when do we not? What is it?”

“Not exactly sure, there was an attack on my pack by a vampire. That's all I know.” Hayley nearly knocked over the chair standing up. “You stay put, we'll be back as soon as this is handled.”

Hope nodded, never looking up from her drawings.

 

* * *

 

The wood splintered under Hope's fist. Elijah's questioning face appeared when he finally swung open the door. The smell of alcohol and blood assaulted her senses, but she was too worried about getting caught to worry about much else. Hope had never flashed around so fast in her life getting dressed and darting across the street as her parents dealt with the wolves.

“What the hell Uncle Elijah, somebody could have seen me. We don't have much time.”

“Hope.” He said it like he was relieved. She raised an eyebrow, peering up at his widened gaze. He looked disheveled like he didn't quite finish getting ready for the evening; hair loose and brushing his forehead. She liked it.

Stepping inside she mumbled, “sorry about the door, I'm still getting used to the bonus strength after triggering everything.”

Elijah shut it with a click and peered down at his feet. His brows furrowed and voice low, he said, “Hope...”

Something felt off. Maybe he was really messed up over her parents practically fucking against the wall last night. It messed her up a bit too, but in that kid way where she wanted to flush her eyes with bleach. Or maybe he was just scared of her parent's wrath if anyone reported seeing her at his place.

All of the thick curtains were closed and it smelled far too strongly of old blood, like he'd made a mess last night and hadn't cleaned it. Her gums pinched at the scent; she asked tentatively, “Are you okay?”

His eyes darted around the room before replying hoarsely, “It's me; the last thing I remember is Edith approaching your school in Mystic Falls.”

Hope's jaw literally dropped open. Marcel knew Elijah was still split into two states of consciousness; Uncle Elijah who loved his family more than anyone and Elijah who remembered nothing of them and was infatuated with this Edith chick. So that's what the dagger was for, linking this Elijah to the full moon. This Elijah that held all the compelled answers to her many questions. This Elijah that her parents wouldn't be able to access unless on a full moon.

Well shit, she had to hand it to Marcel, he was excellent at this slow unravel of mysteries. She'd have to take better care around her big bro, he wasn't as smitten with her existence like her blood relatives. His loyalties aligned with something or someone else and Hope was going to figure it out without the risk of bringing her parents into it. She was merely a pawn in whatever Marcel was playing but she'd play for now.

Hope climbed up the small stairs that led to the main floor's kitchen, asking over her shoulder, “So you were there the night of the attack?”

“Yes, I was with you in-” he blinked rapidly and looked away. Oh right. A flush crept up her neck and stung her cheeks. Hope had tried pretty hard to push all of that out of her mind. It was part of her disorder...the worst part if she were to rank each symptom. This problem with impulsive sexual acts that she couldn't bare later on. She always regretted them but when things fell into place like they did...

Skipping over acknowledging the feed and resulting epic orgasm she stated, “I'm sorry about stabbing you after but it was necessary. For what I'm still unsure.”

She reached inside her bag to pull out the letter and froze. “Oh, shit,” she breathed.” He stared at her questioningly as she started to realize she may have screwed up. Marcel told her not to give it to Elijah until tonight. That could mean that only this Elijah was meant to see it. If her Uncle Elijah read it last night and knew something he shouldn't...whose ass was on the line? Hope really couldn't take much more with disappointing people or making catastrophic mistakes.

“Your jacket. His jacket. The one from last night, where is it?!” She tore through the apartment, flinging open anything with coat hangers. It was the blood that led her there, so thick and sour like he'd fed and gave up on cleaning it off of the expensive fabric. Hope reached into the sticky pocket and pulled out the letter. It was sealed, just as it had been before. But did that really mean anything when it was spelled? Would Uncle Elijah have put it back where he found it if he had figured out how to read it?

Elijah's boots scuffled across the hardwoods, halting in front of her. He hesitantly took the neatly folded parchment from her hand and turned it this way and that, apprehension on his face.

“Your blood will open the seal,” Hope said shakily.

Elijah nicked his fingertip with a fang, asking, “where is Edith? Why was she in Mystic Falls that night?”

Hope chewed her lower lip, thinking about Marcel's instructions to pretend Edith was still alive out there somewhere. There wasn't much she could do but play his game and see this thing through. It's what her gut told her to do and she trusted it for the most part.

“Maybe there's something about her in the letter,” Hope nodded towards it. She rummaged through his cabinets, looking for anything to take this gnawing hunger away. It was the full moon after all, so of course she needed a drop of blood from her mom at some point, but without it she was like a ravenous baby vamp or something. She knew alcohol was the go-to for hungry vampires.

The bourbon she found slid down her throat pleasantly. Elijah was silent as he unfolded the paper in noisy crinkling; she was too on edge to study his face as he read it. Hope would just take a look when he was finished. She gave up on drinking from the glass and took to gripping the bottle by the neck, taking a swig before pushing herself up to sit on the counter.

Maybe ancient people read really slow but she felt like she'd been sitting there forever, kicking her dangling legs into the lower cabinets and glancing around the apartment. If she weren't drinking and obsessing about tearing into someone's neck, she'd be able to reach into her most distant memories to recall what this place looked like when she was a baby. She remembered Jackson holding her and the way his dark curls felt against her skin, but the details were fuzzier the older she became. It made her sad being here again.

Hope's eyes snapped towards him when Elijah tucked the letter into his pocket and asked, “do you smoke?”

“Yeah, sometimes,” she replied slowly. “Why?”

Elijah walked to a bar cart perched on the other side of the room. Its large bronze wheels creaked when his booted toe nudged haphazardly. From it, he picked up an old cigarette holder, snapping it open and plucking two from the case.

“Follow me,” he beckoned crisply. “Leave the bottle,” he added as she slid off the marble counter top.

Hope couldn't tell if she was being paranoid or not, but he seemed off now. Too much tension in his stride, something weird. She reached out with her abilities, trying to read what it was he was feeling towards her. It was a wasted effort though, she couldn't do a basic spell to save her life with this gnawing hunger and blood lust that crawled up from belly to tongue.

Elijah led her through the dark apartment and into the back sitting room that faced a small courtyard. It was nicer back here, less brick and more seating. When Hope followed him through the double doors and onto an iron-railed balcony, she started to feel kind of sad for Uncle Elijah. He lived here all alone, the whole building belonging to the Mikaelson family but with no other Mikaelsons in it.

Hope leaned over the railing, noticing how similar the courtyard looked to the one in between the two cafes her mom liked to sit in and text Keelin. Its floor was unevenly laid but really kinda cool with the way stone and brick made swirls and spirals if you took a bird's eye view.

From his shirt pocket he plucked a matchbook, lighting each cigarette with a freshly stricken match. She loved the sound it made, like a firecracker just fizzing away after the boom. Hope blew out the smoke, feeling lightheaded immediately. Either these were strong as fuck or the full moon was messing with her.

“They are from Spain,” he said, as if that explained it.

“So, can I see the letter now?” She didn't have time to waste. And she needed blood pretty much hours ago. Plus, this felt weird and she didn't want to get caught with him, not after the really nice morning she had with her dad. Hope didn't want to hurt her dad again, and especially not in the same ways ever again.

Elijah shook his head, “I'm afraid not. Though I must ask. How much do you trust Marcellus?”

“Not at all, but honestly, I don't even trust myself...and I'm not just saying that.”

“It seems I have been deceived. I was led to believe my Edith was a vampire chained to the bottom of a river and suffering because of me. It was the only reason I took you and aligned with the witches trying to bring back Inadu.”

“Let me see the letter Elijah, this isn't fair. This is my life too.”

“Listen carefully-”

“-I don't have time for this!” She lunged at him, her cigarette falling to the ground. She was stronger now, but not enough -and he was quicker. She whimpered as he crushingly grasped around her small wrist bones and pushed her away. She stumbled, her back hitting hard. The thud echoed against stone and brick.

With a steely glower he scolded, “it seems you have not yet figured out you have little say in this situation.” Hope looked away, rubbing at her wrist and heart pounding in fear. Not that she was afraid of him, but more of his reaction. The unknown had always been the scariest parts of life.

He leaned closer, “I need to speak with Marcellus immediately. Are you able to arrange a meeting before the full moon ceases?”

“I can try...”

“I need you to do more than try,” he said, taking a long drag from his cigarette. When he looked at her again, she wondered what sort of expression she was wearing. He didn't seem to like it because he lowered his eyes and gently stated, “I apologize if I frightened or hurt you. I am concerned and fearful, Hope. I do not want to put you in harms way with the contents of this letter but I also am not one to blindly accept and believe in anything without checking the source.”

She pulled out her cell and began texting Marcel, replying hollowly, “Yeah, I get that. I don't want to be left in the dark though, promise me you will tell me more after you meet with Marcel.”

“If it is safe to do so, I promise I will tell you what I can,” he agreed.

She nodded slowly. If that was the best he had to offer, she had little position to argue about it.


	11. Chapter 11

Ch. 11

Song rec: _**Beautiful Hell**_ **by Adna**

 

* * *

 

_**Earlier, the morning of the full moon** _

 

Elijah tore the sunglasses from his face, stepping through the thick purple doors of Marcel's ridiculous club. The nightclub was frequented by vampires without daylight rings; newly turned and sloppy. Embarrassments. Imbeciles. Fortunately, the establishment appeared to be staff-only on this particular morning.

“We're closed.”

Elijah's eyes quickly adjusted in the dim entry room. A young girl blocked his way towards the main floor, her chin coated in blood and dressed in some sort of diamond studded thong. Her breasts hung like ripe fruit, nipples pierced and spattered in blood. Elijah flicked out his handkerchief and grabbed the girl roughly by the jaw. Yanking her forward, she yelped as he swiped her face clean and asked coolly, “do you know with whom you speak?”

Blinking rapidly the girl began to quake. She sputtered, “you're hurting me.”

Elijah clucked his tongue and dragged her to a wall, slamming her with such force that bits of brick crumbled to their feet.

“ _Hey_!”, a woman exclaimed from behind, flashing over. Elijah reached back without looking, his hand crashing through skin and bone to grasp around her wildly beating heart. He still adored the sensation, even after all of these years; hot, slippery and straining pulses in his unfaltering grasp.

Marcel stepped into the entryway, two nude women slinking behind him like curious house cats. Elijah recognized them as two of the witches being punished for joining Inadu. Niklaus would approve. Something father and faux son could always agree on was finding new and deplorable ways to punish the disobedient witch community.

“Good afternoon,” Marcel greeted in a weary tone, shuffling to a stop in his expensive Italian boots.

Elijah adjusted his footing and faced him, arms extended and hands gripping the shrieking women. “I wish to speak with you immediately.”

Marcel nodded “Yeah, sure, fine. Let go of my people and just ask next time.” He folded his arms over the tailored olive vest and cocked his head expectantly.

Elijah obeyed and wiped his hands on his jacket as the women crumpled to the ground, wrinkling his nose at the stench of newly turned vampire blood. Potent and sour like bile. They walked silently through the building, the smell of blood and sex reminding Elijah of too many dark nights in Paris. Rebekah would abhor this... _garish_ club.

“I'm sure my sister must be impressed with what you've done with the place. Truly, Marcellus, such a testament to what you can accomplish when left to your own devices,” Elijah droned flatly, eying the lush curves of a young vampire who danced on a stage behind the glass wall of Marcel's office.

“Take a seat. And no need to take a tone with me, this place serves its purpose.” Marcel erupted into a toothy smile and leaned forward, “and don't pretend like you don't know how much Rebekah loves to indulge just as much as her brothers do.”

Elijah, rolling his eyes upwards in an attempt to mind his temper, snapped the letter from his jacket pocket. “I ran into my neice last night. She came from your loft completely inebriated. Worse than that, I came across this.” It was not often that Elijah caught Marcel off guard.

“So little Hope Mikaelson makes a move. A really, really, stupid move. But, one that I planned for just the same.”

“I would hardly qualify the forgotten actions during a drunken stupor as 'a move',” Elijah said, twirling his daylight ring round and round his finger. The girl on stage moved with a grace only gifted to vampires; subtle and precise, while loose and sensual. She cupped her own breasts and arched her lower back as if the action brought her great pleasure – Elijah blinked away. Settling his gaze back on Marcel, he continued, “and let us not pretend you did not orchestrate her early delivery of this letter. You are clever, but you are no match for a Mikaelson.”

Marcellus bristled. Good.

He shot back, just as Elijah assumed he would. No matter, words did little damage coming from this particular source. “Yeah, except for Hope. I may have slipped a little something into her drink and had one of my guys text you her location. I take it you read it?”

“I did.” Elijah leaned forward and said venomously, “if this is some twisted joke to seek out further retributions for my part in – .”

Marcel let out a stream of obnoxious laughter, clasping his hands together and causing irritation to boil Elijah's patience. Finally, Marcel slapped his hand to his desk and exclaimed, “just like you to assume this entire ordeal we face is because you tore my heart out once.” He sighed and spun around in his chair, facing the dancer through the glass. He continued darkly, “I wish it were that simple. I really do.” He stood and stretched, turning back to stare Elijah down over his desk. “I suppose you'll want proof.”

“Indeed,” Elijah nodded, making a steeple with his fingers. “Start with Edith. Who is this woman and why did she write me this letter?”

Marcel replied with a tone laced in boredom, “she was a powerful seer from an old witch line who your compelled side became quite intimate with.”

Elijah's eyes followed his every move, hoping to pick up on the things he was holding back somehow. “Why can I not remember anything after you compelled me to forget my family? How is it you have separated my consciousness?”

“This was all in the letter...” Marcel sighed. He continued when Elijah stared blankly in expectation, “thanks to Vincent, we were able to figure out the exact amount of energy and celestial event to tie your compelled side permanently to the full moon. Inadu's death sent out an amazing amount of energy, some of which was used to bring Hope back as what she is now.”

“Are you telling me that I will lose consciousness while my compelled side – the side that Niklaus and Hayley would have dead if they could – takes over every full moon?”

Marcel raised his brows, and nodded,“it was Rebekah's idea. She knew it would be the only way you would ever...it was just the only way.”

Elijah felt a stab of anger, gripping his chair as he inquired, “my sister helped orchestrate all of this?”

“Both sisters, and they will return once Hope's magic is no longer needed.”

Elijah stared at a spot on the wall, a spatter of blood perhaps. He did not enjoy being on this side of things. His place was at his brother's side. It always had been. It always would be. He said icily, “Niklaus will have your heads. This is madness.”

“Here's all the proof you need.” Marcel gestured towards the door. Elijah turned to see a woman trudging in. “This is Anabelle. She comes from a strong witch line and was eager to prove her worth to the ancestors in aligning with Inadu.”

The girl couldn't be more than twenty and likely found herself on the wrong side of a very old war between the ancestors and vampires. Elijah quirked a brow and quipped, “how did that work out for you, dear girl?” She blinked away, tears brimming. He found he simply did not care.

Marcel put a hand at his hip, gesturing the other towards Elijah. “Tell me, have you fed on a witch, vampire, or wolf since the time you were cured from my bite?” Elijah held up his hands questioningly until Marcel continued, “because your brother has. Kol fed from Davina one night.” Elijah was about to open his mouth to retort that the subject of Kol's private life was of no concern to him, but Marcellus looked...devastated.

Anabelle started whimpering as Marcel plucked her quivering arm and displayed her wrist to Elijah. “Go on,” Marcel murmured.

Elijah obeyed, knowing he had little other options. Furthermore, he was simply famished. He pushed his teeth through delicate thin skin. She shook against his mouth like a flopping fish but this only urged his feed. Even the oldest vampires still craved such things.

After a good few gulps satiated his thirst, Elijah stepped away, dabbing at his mouth with his backup handkerchief. Marcel looked away when the witch started to sweat and shake in a most unnatural tempo.

“What is this?” Elijah asked slowly, eying the way Anabelle grew weak and blood inked across her enlarged pupils.

“She'll be dead within a few days. Now watch what happens.” Marcel whistled and a large vampire appeared. Elijah swallowed thickly as he watched the vampire feed from Anabelle, only to sputter half of it back up and bare his fangs at them all as if threatened.

“When I bit you and Kol, my venom nearly killed you both. Had it not been for Hayley and the venom cure, I'd have been successful. Call me paranoid but I had to make sure this was the end of the Mikaelson war. I found myself a witch seer. Edith. Not the most powerful seer, but close. What she had to tell me about our future was hard to swallow.”

Towards the coughing and seemingly enraged vampire, Marcel compelled, “go to the bayou and feed on the first Crescent pack member you come across.” Smiling knowingly at Elijah, Marcel stated lowly, “just wait until you see what happens when a wolf becomes infected.”

“ _No_ ,” Elijah seethed, trying unsuccessfully to vamp speed after him. Marcel blocked him with ease, asserting his dominance with a glare and heavy hands stilling Elijah by the shoulders.

“I need leverage on all ends. Between you and Kol unknowingly releasing a plague on the supernatural community and a very narrow window at gaining the one and only cure, i've been a busy man. Being a hero is a thankless job mostly.”

Elijah shook his head and he barely recognized his own voice. It wobbled like his body understood how horrifying this all was long before his brain could comprehend it. He croaked, “there are children among the pack tonight. It's a full moon, they'll be celebrating. Please call this off. You have the leverage you need.”

Marcel flinched but never paused. Elijah closed his mouth in pained defeat as Marcel stated, “sorry to have to do this to you, but with the full moon and all...” Marcel's eyes dilated and probed deeply. Elijah swallowed hard, knowing he was about to be compelled yet again. After what seemed an eternity, his hands grasped the sides of Elijah's still and dazed face. “I'll see you when you're you again.”

Elijah heard the crack before the cold dark yanked him away.

 

* * *

 

“LET ME SEE HER! LET ME THROUGH!”

Hayley held her hands up and took a tentative step forward. “Eric, she needs to be put down. Something isn't right. She's suffering, you see?” The screams and snarls echoed throughout the bayou settlement. The night air was thick with heat but still she shivered.

Eric Bronston was only thirteen years old. When Hayley was that young she lost someone too, a friend from the foster system. It had pained her in ways unimaginable – yet, she couldn't grasp what it feels like to lose a parent because she came into life with the understanding that they were already gone. That sort of bond would never be realized inside of her, which was why it wasn't as difficult for her to turn and snap Shelly Bronston's neck, as it might have been for the other wolves gathered around in shock.

A silence settled through the pack. Klaus stood nearby beneath a mossy cluster of oaks, watching but keeping his distance. Pack business was delicate and this was one of those times it was best he made himself scarce. Hayley appreciated that. They locked eyes momentarily as she stood from where Shelly's lifeless body lay in the blood spattered dirt. He looked stoic which Hayley knew to mean he was afraid and devising at least four different plans of counter attack by now.

One of their elder members led Eric away, his face soaked in blood and tears. She asked the crowd of pale and shaken faces, “does anyone recognize the attacker?”

The vampire who ripped into Shelly lay in two pieces near Klaus. He grabbed the decapitated head by the hair and held it up, cutting in with, “an attack against this community is an act of war. Rest assured that those responsible will pay for their crimes.”

Silence ensued and after it stretched uncomfortably long, Hayley knew that the pack was as clueless about what must have happened here as they were. Whatever happened to Shelly following the vampire's bite was something nobody had ever seen before. Hayley couldn't shake the image of the bubbling venom spatting out of the woman's mouth as her body jerked unnaturally between blood curdling screams.

A voice from the back spoke up, “it seemed like the vampire was sick. Then Shelly got sick real quick.”

Another cut in; Eric's uncle who bellowed,“we need to find Mitch. He transformed into his wolf to attack the vampire. Then he ran off. What if he's sick now too?”

Klaus perked at this, shooting Hayley an alarmed look. She felt the dread settle like a boulder crushing her chest. If there was a sick werewolf roaming the streets, then vampires and wolves would need to work together in finding him. The risk of an attack on the human population was one of the only instances the supernatural population ever joined forces.

Hayley clenched her jaw and peered towards the full moon's rippled reflection on the swamp water. They'd need to speak to Marcel Gerard. The sooner the better.

 

* * *

 

 

Hope kept her head down, heart hammering in her chest. What in the hell were her parents doing here? She thought they were being kept busy at the bayou, Marcel had said he'd make sure of it.

“What do we do?”, she hissed, shrinking as far back into the crowded club as possible. Her instincts told her to disappear into the swell of sweaty dancing vampires to put space between herself and Elijah. Hope couldn't risk missing out on this meeting between Elijah and Marcel. If she couldn't read the letter then she could at least play detective until she figured it all out.

Elijah turned to say something, but a flash and strong hands on her shoulders stopped them both from so much as moving. Marcel leaned close and stated, “follow me. Quickly.”

They were led down a dark hall just off of the pulsing dance floor and into a dim room. There was only a round table situated in the middle in front of a leather love seat. Hope grimaced at the red plush carpet, wondering if the color was chosen to hide spilled blood. It smelled nice in here though, like really clean and minty.

“Stay here until I return,” Marcel instructed, closing the door heavily behind him.

Hope shot Elijah an annoyed look and plopped down, watching him pace the room until he gave in and took a seat aside her. The music was still loud even in the vip room; she crossed her leg and tapped her dangling foot to the familiar beat.

“If we are bored in here long enough, you think they'll send a girl in to dance for us?” Hope joked, nodding towards the circular table that was clearly a mini stage for private shows.

This Elijah seemed to have a slightly better sense of humor than her uncle. The small smile that relaxed his face reminded her that he was an okay guy. Even though some weird shit went down between them, a lot of that was of her own doing. A lot of that...she would have to face and atone for later. The guilt came in waves, usually around her father really.

An hour passed and Hope was so tired of club music that she wanted to surge her magic and take out the building's electricity. Drawing attention to Elijah and herself probably wouldn't be the best idea, though. Her cell was about dead from all of the Instagram stalking she'd been doing on Ada and other kids from Mystic Falls. Looked like Ada only posted when she was drunk at Mystic Grill. Maybe she hadn't gone off to college after all. If only there was a fast forward button on life and she could see that everything would work out for everyone...

Thinking about the letter, Hope wondered if she should keep pressing Elijah for information. Only one way to find out. She shifted so that she faced him, her knees nudging into his. He seemed lost in thought and had remained eerily still and silent the whole hour she kept trying to strike up conversations.

Clearing her throat, she asked, “did Marcel explain anything else about Edith in the letter?”

Elijah flinched at the mention of the name. Hope felt bad for bringing her up, but she still hadn't heard anything from Jo or Lizzie. If Hope could figure the first puzzle piece out, maybe the rest would be easier to place.

He settled his dark eyes on hers and stated, “the letter was not from Marcel. It was written by Edith. She's dead because of a choice she made.”

“Oh...um. I'm sorry.”

Elijah blinked away, crisply reminding her, “do not pretend as if you did not know. You were the one to kill her after all.”

Hope touched his hand. It was cold but he didn't remove it when she curled her fingers around him. She reminded him softly, “I killed Inadu. I'm sorry about your loss.”

“And I am sorry for yours.” Hope remembered it was not only Henry that died because of Elijah. It was Jonathon too. It was almost harder to lose the latter because all she could think about were his small children missing him back home.

Before he could reply, the door flung open and Marcel strolled in. He looked tired and angry, and wasted no time in commanding Hope to stay put and Elijah to follow him. She opened her mouth to protest but clamped it shut when Elijah turned and gave her a warning look. He pressed something to her hand, his body blocking Marcel's view of the exchange.

Hope glanced down once she was alone, only the bass filled rap song rattling the walls to keep her company. Elijah had left her the letter. It was still sealed.

“Um, kind of worthless without your blood...” Hope muttered out loud, even though he was long gone out of earshot. The song ended before she realized what was nagging at her senses. She was still getting the hang of this vampire thing and she never craved blood unless it was around the full moon.

Inhaling deeply like a wolf, she stood and followed her nose. Her eyes lit up. She knew she had caught a wiff. There on the stage, were a few droplets of blood that had not been there before. Elijah must have knicked himself and left it behind on his way out.

She opened the letter greedily, sitting on top of the small table, throat stinging in a raw thirst. She would need her mother's blood soon.

 

 

_**Dearest Elijah,** _

_**I don't have much time, forgive me. I lied to you, but it was for your protection and for the protection of your niece. I'm a witch with the ability to see into the future; a seer. Esther Mikaelson contacted me from a realm created upon hers and Dahlia's death. It is where you and I will one day meet again. It is where your family will go one day.** _

_**For now, hear me when I say that your life, and the lives of everyone that you hold dear as a Mikaelson, are in danger. The very existence of the entire supernatural world is in danger. You will see it first in Europe, the supernatural death toll will rise. A mass extinction will threaten witches, vampires, and wolves alike.** _

_**My love, you and your brother Kol are the carriers of a deathly infectious disease against magic. Because of Marcel's bite and the cure you were administered, it created something supernaturally deadly inside of your own bite. It will spread and cannot be stopped without a cure.** _

_**Your sisters viewed my premonition and made the choice to involve Niklaus and Hayley. This quickly proved to be a mistake, my premonition rapidly changed to devestation. They cannot be a part of this which is why we had to separate you permanently from your Mikaelson-aware self. The eradication and death of Inadu proved to be the perfect distraction and cover. Hope was able to dagger you in time to permanently tie you to the full moon cycle. Inadu's death also provided enough energy to bring back Hope, who is the most important part of this all.** _

_**When she returned to life, Freya and Rebekah anchored to the realm along with me in my passing, we were able to use our combined life energies for her to resurrect and exist with not only her wolf side and newly turned vampire side, but the unique ability of keeping her witch access to magic. It has been some time since a triple goddess walked the earth, but it was imperative that the necessary sacrifices occurred to make sure Hope returned as such. Without her magic, the cure will never come to fruition.** _

_**I do not trust the remaining portion of my premonition inside of a letter, as I know it will be read by those it was not intended for. So I leave you with the instructions of protecting your niece at all costs and when you have come to see that the infection has reached New Orleans, Marcellus Gerard will tell you what you need to know about the cure to the infection.** _

_**The cure lies with you and Hope, it is the only way. Please know that this is what I wish for you.** _

_**Love,** _

_**Edith** _

 

Hope sealed the letter once again, her heart thumping and sweat pricking. It had been a while since she felt the crawling feelings of anxiety and panic. She wasn't used to taking on anything more than a sex scandal with older men. This was scary. No, terrifying, really. An infection? A cure? A premonition that basically cuts off any chances of involving her parents in helping her figure this out...

Maybe Elijah was right to be hesitant in trusting Marcel, but it seemed increasingly impossible to take any other action. With Edith gone, Hope wondered if there were any other seers in the world. Maybe speaking with one would help her decide just how panicked she should be. Her dad _was_ organizing that party. Maybe she’d rub elbows with someone who could help her locate such a witch.

The door creaked open and Elijah leaned against the frame, beckoning for her with two fingers. Hope tried to read his expression; he looked off and that made her palms sweat. She followed him down the hall and out of a side exit, the muggy Louisiana night air carrying the usual hint of jasmine and sounds of muffled music from all different directions.

It was hard to keep up in her heels because his stride was so long, but he always slowed when she did.

“You're making me nervous,” she admitted when they slipped through a back way to get to his car.

He put the tips of his fingers on her hand once they settled inside the car and replied, “I am only trying to get you home before your parents realize that you are missing. They are slightly ahead of us and I am unsure if they are heading home or to the bayou.” His voice was uneven and she could scent fear.

“Elijah, what's wrong? What did he say?”

His knuckles turned ivory and skin pinkened from his grip around the steering wheel. He rasped, “the infection. It's real.” Shaking his head in disbelief and whispering to himself, “my bite...”

Hope swallowed hard, everything feeling very real all of the sudden. She asked tentatively, “what about the premonition?”

He answered quickly, cranking the car and flicking on the headlights, “I know what is to come.”

When he didn't elaborate she grit her teeth and sighed, “I take it I can't know...”

“I'm afraid not.”

Hope folded her arms across her chest and let her head fall to the back of the leather seat with a soft thud. She mumbled, “fantastic...did he at least tell you how we will find the cure?”

It took him forever to answer.“My blood and your blood,” he said.

“Okay, that seems doable. Unless that's a metaphor for something.”

He cranked the car but instead of backing out, he turned towards her first, foot pressed to the brake. He stated over the idling engine, “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Go on...” she prodded gently, chipping away at her nail polish in a nervous habit.

“Marcel informed me that when I took you I was compelled to make Rosine believe I was executing a plan to draw Klaus out. I was also compelled to never harm you. But...” He looked mortified and, in a way, that didn't make her feel bad for him; more like intrigued. Like she was seeing a part of him she wasn't supposed to – or that Uncle Elijah wouldn't want her to.

Hope leaned forward and asked, “but what? Hey, it's okay, whatever it is.”

“I feel obligated to tell you that the manner in which I chose to do so was entirely my own. I behaved...”

She waved her hand absently, staring at the glowing radio. Definitely past her bed time. She shrugged and replied, “It's fine. I mean, come on, I wasn't compelled to do any of that either. And I actually remember you as my uncle. That's fucked up. You...you're the normal one.”

The car started to roll back as it squeaked out of the tightly packed parking garage. As he maneuvered onto the street he said, “that's kind of you to say but your definition of normal could potentially be skewed by your circumstances.”

“Maybe. But now Uncle Elijah basically hates me and is probably plotting my tragic death in one of his journals with one of those frilly feather pens.”

“A quill?”

“Whatever.” She pointed towards the street to the left, “take that, it'll get us there quicker.”

“Is he unkind to you?”, he asked slowly, flipping on the blinker.

It clicked loudly, as if counting the seconds between their exchanged words. Hope bit her lip and thought back to her very minimal interactions she'd had with her uncle since his return. Finally, she stated, “not really but he's not kind either. He's like...tolerant of my existence.”

“For what it's worth, I enjoy your company.” The smile he flashed caught her off guard. It looked really weird on him. Maybe she'd never seen either Elijah do it. Hope messed with the radio dials, finding mostly static and country before turning it off.

As they drove towards the compound, Hope sighed and murmured more to herself than anything, “my blood, your blood...seems too easy a recipe.”

 

* * *

 

“How did she do?” Klaus asked, gently thrusting a glass of his best bourbon into her eager hand.

Hayley took several gulps before shuddering into her reply, “fine, she only needed a sip, just like she said. I didn't bother teaching her to use her fangs. If she needed to feed as frequently as a normal vampire, I would have.”

Klaus was quiet, shedding his jacket and shirt. Hayley watched his bare back muscles as he worked the button on his jeans. His skin was riddled with tiny scars and imperfections from long before becoming a vampire; she'd never gotten a good look at all of him before... – never thought to.

The news of a spreading infection in Europe had just reached Marcel, forcing them to work together in preventing one here. Marcellus had tried to convince them Elijah needed to be locked away, but Klaus assured him that Elijah would mind his feeding habits. Even so, Hayley couldn't help but feel completely unhinged at the idea of an infected wolf – one of her own – roaming the streets. Marcel believed he would only last a few days before dying, but that was plenty of time to bite someone.

“I can't leave Eric an orphan. If Marcel gets to Mitch before any of us do, he'll kill him on the spot. What if he's not even infected?”

Klaus didn't answer, but he turned to face her. She didn't mean to, but her eyes flicked down to his boxers that hung low on his defined and muscular body. Hayley bit her lip and started to turn away. She startled and peered up into his sharp eyes when his hand grasped her arm and held her still.

In that low tone that hits her hard every time, he promised, “we will find him first and contain this. It will just take a lot of vigilance within each faction to ensure our survival.”

Hayley nodded slowly, letting him take the glass from her hand and settle it with a thud on his mahogany nightstand. Then, surprising her further, his cool hands grasped her by the cheeks and he planted a warm and full kiss to her lips. Before she could react he maneuvered around her to turn down the bed.

Running a hand through her hair she asked tentatively, “do you mind if I sleep with Hope tonight?”

He fluffed his pillow and sank into it. Propping his hands behind his head, he asked, “why would I mind such a thing?”

“I...I don't know. I wasn't sure if maybe you had something else in mind because of last night.”

He didn’t smile when he said it but she could hear the hint of candor,“I have lots in mind because of last night, though none of it is an expectation nor a request. “

She tried to hide a grin and the blush that crept to her cheeks. The more she tried, the more he noticed and she failed. He looked at her like she made him feel something worth standing there longer for…

Hayley felt that stupid girl feeling that starts in the chest and reaches the toes. Not what she was used to feeling when he called her by that name, but things were changing in all sorts of ways. Well, she wasn't going to let him think she was some blushing timid idiot.

“Goodnight, Little Wolf,” he murmured.

She tossed him a small smile before taking a running leap into bed, pinning his hips down with her thighs and pushing her mouth to his. She meant it to be a goodnight kiss returned. Sweet and small and a reminder that she was into what was growing between them.

The moment stretched and expanded the instant his tongue nudged her lips apart and his teeth found her lower lip captive. There was nothing quite like a man who knew how to drive you to the brink with only his mouth. Hayley had always enjoyed the art of kissing. It was something she was good at.

Klaus knew how to work her up; caressing lips and searing wet slide of the tongue against her own. Kissing him like this made her want to do so much more. Why the fuck hadn't it felt like this when they first hooked up all those years ago? How had it not been anything like this? It was hot and it was good...but this was...

“ – oh!”

He laughed into her mouth and she swatted at him, pushing away. She had to force herself to leave as she watched him lick the wetness off of the finger he'd just swiped inside of her panties. She burned and throbbed there, wishing her instincts weren't screaming for her to be by Hope's side tonight. Something had just felt off with her after they arrived. Hope was easy to read at times and she was obviously uneasy and fearful. A sign that the anxiety and panic was cycling back around.

“Wait,” he called when she turned to go. After she paused and glanced back over her shoulder, he continued, “don't worry about your pack. I will make sure you can protect them.”

Hayley thanked him with a look and when she crawled into bed with their daughter, all she could think about was how much lighter everything felt with Klaus at her side. More than the kisses and the flirting, Hayley felt warm from his words.He didn’t claim he could protect his pack, he made sure she understood he would protect everything else so that _she_ could. He was a true wolf at heart and she wished she had only seen it sooner.

 

 

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

Ch. 13

Song rec: _**Numb**_ **by Meg Myers**

 

* * *

 

It was assumed that Mitch Bronston had died. Klaus checked his phone again, the text to Caroline still unread. Three days had passed and there were no reports of infection in New Orleans or surrounding areas. Hayley was in a bloody mess of a mood, pacing the courtyard while making dozens of phone calls in sharp tones and strained hand gestures. Klaus peered down at her dark hair from the breezeway, watching her hang up the phone and struggle out of her worn leather jacket, chucking it to the ground. He could scent her anxiety and the resulting salty sweat dotting her skin all the way from where he hovered.

His boots echoed down the stone stairs as she let out a frustrated growl. Glancing up, her eyes flicked and grazed over the length of him. “Where are you headed?”, she asked dully. Klaus stooped down to retrieve her jacket, dangling it from a hooked finger before draping it over the couch he flopped heavily on.

“Come sit, we have things to discuss,” he said, patting the seat aside him. Klaus felt his phone buzz inside his back pocket. He fought the urge to check it, eager to hear back from Mystic Falls but needing to ensure Hayley understood his intentions.

She crossed her arms tightly and came to a halt in front of him. His eyes trailed up her toned legs that filled out ripped black jeans as she stated, “don't have time to do things like sit. I have a pack of wolves scared out of their minds. There's vampires on edge about their feeding habits and already there have been a few tourists turn up missing. Marcel isn't answering a single damn one of my calls so _please_ tell me you have the vampires covered while I deal with the wolves?” Her eyebrow is raised expectantly, hopefulness coating her weary large eyes.

Klaus couldn't help but feel the creeping feeling of apprehension. He scratched at his jaw, breathing in deeply. Rarely did he care how his plans affected others as long as they got the job done. The only way was seldom the preferred way. But here they were.

He cleared his throat and stated, “I need you to stand in for me at the faction meeting today. Take Hope with you, it's time she learned and became involved.”

“And where the hell will you be?”

“Now, now love. This is important. There is a school in Mystic Falls...you know, full of children susceptible to the infection and in it the comatose body of my sister? I need to bring the news of the infection and tie up some loose ends. I'd like to bring Freya home, it is already worrisome enough the distance between the family in a time like this.”

Hayley dropped her arms heavily to her sides and bit her lip, nodding slowly. “Okay...and what about Elijah?”

“I will pay him a visit before my departure,” he stood and placed his hands heavily to her shoulders, “and I trust you will keep our daughter safe”. She nodded slowly in agreement, eyes flicking back and forth between his own.

He sensed she had something to say so he remained silent, waiting. Finally, she looked away and asked sharply, “loose ends?”

Ah, now he understood. Klaus replied, “I need to make some things right. Or as right as they can be now.” He snaked a hand behind her neck and grasped her heated damp skin, murmuring, “until then...”

Klaus tried to assure her through his lips nestled against hers. Caroline was not the loose end. He could not end something that had never truly begun. It was always just as it had been with the young blonde vampire: the wrong time. And if Hayley continued kissing him like this, would there ever truly be a right time again?

“What an adorable twist...did _not_ see it coming.”

Klaus and Hayley jolted apart. Standing with his arms crossed, head cocked to the side, and a smile that didn't reach his eyes, was his younger brother.

Kol pulled a flask from his pocket and unscrewed the cap, asking darkly, “where might I find Elijah?” The fountain trickled aside him in their silence as he tipped the flask and wetly downed the pungent whiskey.

 

* * *

 

A bug landed on Hayley's back and Hope watched it crawl lazily before flying away. It was weird how well she could hear the sounds it made. The clicking of tiny legs and the whine of thin wings spinning in the thick swamp air; everything was different now that she returned as something new.

“I swear to you...”, Hayley called out to the surrounding pack members, “we will find Mitch and lay him to rest properly. I will bring all of your concerns to the faction meeting and make this city safe again. For everyone.”

Hope could tell without even reaching out with her abilities that they didn't really believe her mother. Who could blame them? Nobody knew what the hell was going on for sure and Hope had to wait until the next full moon to even see Elijah again to work on this blood cure prospect.

Once they were back in the car, Hope snapping her seat belt into place, she asked, “will Uncle Elijah be at the faction meeting?”

Hayley bristled, hands jerky as she flipped on the air conditioner and jabbed at the radio buttons. “Yeah, he needs to be. Your father is with him now before he leaves for Mystic Falls.”

The vents blew out musty air that reminded Hope of the old school's bathrooms, tightening her seat belt as her mother tore down the rocky dirt road. The Beatles sang about only needing love and Hope could taste coppery blood as she gnawed too hard at her lip. It was still a huge unknown...had Uncle Elijah read the letter? Did he get the same answers from Marcel as full moon Elijah had? If he had, would he be willing to tell her the ending to Edith's prophecy or would he involve her parents? Did he even know Elijah took his place during the full moon?

Hope swallowed thickly against the rising anxiety. She _hated_ not knowing what to expect. Loss of control triggered way too many darkened and circling thoughts.

“You okay?”, her mother asked, turning down the song.

Hope shrugged, fiddling with the bracelet Aunt Freya had made her years ago. It was spelled to help Hope control the panic attacks that never quite stopped since Inadu stole away her family for too long. “Just worried about Uncle Elijah.”

Hayley stamped her foot to the brake when a deer darted across the main road. Hope grunted and rubbed at where the seat belt yanked into her collarbone. She watched the gentle creature stare at them from the other side, unblinking and only mildly concerned.

Her mother asked sharply, “why?”

“Because he's going to be looked at as a threat. None of this is his fault, right?”

Hope knew her mother didn't like talking about anything that happened with him. Hayley wasn't ready – and good, because neither was Hope. The forgiveness was there, she could feel it. But the forgetting wasn't going to happen any time soon...or ever. That part was going to hurt in unknown ways for probably the rest of their lives. Once upon a time her mother had been in the deepest of loves with Uncle Elijah. And now...god, now her parents were acting like fumbling teenagers with their body paint and stolen kisses. A part of her was happy, but a part of her was scared that she would screw it up for them somehow like she had screwed up things between Uncle Elijah and the family. Hope didn't want any part in anyone's unhappiness. Not ever again. Why it kept playing out that way her whole goddamned life she didn't know.

Hayley's voice sliced into Hope's mini pity party. “Your father won't allow anyone to harm him. Let's focus on this meeting. Do you understand how these things work?”

Hope rolled her eyes. Her mother wasn't even trying to sound convincing. Hope drummed her knuckles on the cool glass window. She stared blankly at the blurring forest as the car resumed, muttering, “how would I? I've never been to one.”

“The mayor and police chief stand for the humans. They are good team players even though neither are good men. Why do you think that is?” Great, now her mother was playing teacher. Hope wet her lips and tried not to appear as annoyed as she felt. She knew she was only invited along because nobody wanted to leave her unattended anymore.

Hope shrugged and suggested lightly, “there's something in it for them or they've been threatened into submission.”

Her mother's eyes lit up like she was genuinely happy Hope figured something like that out with ease. As if figuring out people's motives and using those motives to best others wasn't normal teenage behavior. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was just in her blood.

Hayley pointed and said matter of factly, “Both. They get to live in their nice homes with their nice things in peace as long as they understand how to cooperate.”

Okay, so Hope couldn't help it. She was interested in how things worked and why. “What makes you say they aren't good men?”

“They have made deals in the past that lost human life. Deals they didn't have to make with the witches. There's a really delicate balance that everyone understands but doesn't call out. Everyone's in bed with everyone else because you have to be. With the way Marcel has things set up...lines are becoming blurry. Now with this new threat, it's going to take a lot of hard work. We need the witches and Marcel has made sure relations with them have been shot to hell so this could get ugly. All hands on deck, you know?” Hope could get used to this. It was too bad it wasn't her father teaching her though.

“Yeah, so why did Dad bail at a time like this?”

Hayley blinked rapidly, stating gently, “hey...he didn't bail. He's making sure Freya and the school stays safe and understands the new threats.”

Hope shrugged in question. “Am I supposed to stand for the witches or something?”

“Vincent will be there, but it would be helpful if you could take Freya's seat. I've got the wolves covered, Elijah will take his usual stance and play

peace keeper for the Mikaelsons.”

“Seems like we already have plenty of Mikaelson at this meeting.”

Her mother let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, that's a popular opinion. You'll hear about it I'm sure. Just...be prepared for a bit of a push back. But don't worry, you'll do fine. Use your instincts and you can't go wrong.”

Hope had to bite back a smile. If only her mother knew how often it was Hope's instincts that got her into most of these messes.

* * *

 

Elijah snuffed out the cigar, exhaling a plume of smoke from his nostrils. He eyed the pile of blood bags scattered across his kitchen counter and the weary expression worn by both of his brothers.

“I am truly sorry for your loss, Kol.”

Kol sounded calm when he spoke, “I will get her back. There's always a way.” Elijah knew that Kol's calm was comparable to that of an elusive serial killer's; a fuzzy warm blanket tossed over a twisted mess beneath. He was only here because he was going to try and use Hope's power to get Davina back. Niklaus knew it too, yet they allowed it without comment. They loved him enough for that.

Niklaus cut in after scraping his car keys up from the marbled counter top, “neither of you feed from anyone but what and whom I provide for you. When I return, perhaps I can bring you something...warmer.”

“Where the bloody hell are you off to?” Kol exclaimed, tearing into one of the bags. Alcohol permeated from his breath but Elijah could not blame him. Losing a wife was hardly something easily dealt with under sobriety. Not as a vampire. And not when you're at all to blame.

Calling over his shoulder, Niklaus replied, “I need to bring our sisters home. We should be together in a time such as this.”

When the door shut heavily, Kol turned and said with raised eyebrows, “I hear you've taken your uncle duties to new and extreme levels of Mikaelson calamity!”

Elijah flipped his wrist to view the time clicking away on his gold watch, grabbing for a blood bag as he exited.

“Hey!” Kol called, “now where are _you_ going? We have things to discuss!”

“The faction meeting. Stay here and do stay away from my bottle of Glenlivet. You may help yourself to what's in the decanter,” he replied, straightening his tie and tucking his phone away.

The blood bag did very little to satiate the raw hunger that had been pestering Elijah for days now. It did offer a moment of calm and euphoria; something he welcomed eagerly. Upon arrival, Elijah took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he stepped into the old church. Stuffing both hands into his pockets he raised his chin and faked a look of cold detachment. Inside, however, he ached at the sight of Hayley and Hope taking their seats near his empty one.

Typically, he and Niklaus alternated in directing these meetings. Though today, it was Hayley who stood as soon as his chair creaked under his weight.

“Now that we're all here...” she began, eyes roving over everyone but him. He glanced towards Hope, feeling her attention. She quickly blinked away, staring down at her hands that clasped on the table. He could tell she was nervous and uncomfortable, something she would have to learn how to mask – and soon. They would eat the poor girl alive if she gave off the odor of frightened pup for too long.

It was stifling in here, the sun filtering a kaleidoscope of colorful light through the stained glass. It smelled similar to most older and underused buildings in New Orleans; a mustiness coating the aging stone and oak. This was the same place Hope was born and Hayley was killed along with countless other mishaps; not a building revered for its good memories or peaceful energy. Yet, it provided a neutral space for matters such as this.

“Excuse me, before we start, why is the child here?”

Everyone shifted in their seats to peer between the mayor and Hayley's challenging glare. Hope slowly removed her hands from the table and sat up straighter. Her mouth opened as if she was about to speak, but Hayley cut in, “because she belongs here. Anything else?”

Hope's heart was racing, Elijah could hear it like a steady gallop. He thought perhaps it was nerves, but when he looked towards his niece, the narrowed eyes and pursed lips were the spitting image of her father's expression of restrained anger. Ah right, she found the label of _child_ to be quite triggering to her temper.

The meeting went on as he imagined it would. Everyone talked over everyone else as Elijah took a backseat as peace keeper. It seemed Hayley was struggling to keep Vincent appeased with her plan of action.

Vincent laughed, shaking his head as if he believed her mad. “You really expect to win this thing without magic in the Quarter?”

Hayley's jaw twitched. “I didn't say that. But the wolves would benefit greatly with your help outside of the city. Between Marcel and the Mikaelsons, we can keep this infection from spreading. It's contained, we understand how it passes and how many days it takes to die from it.”

“Are you seriously insulting our intelligence with that? You are altogether ignoring the fact that Elijah and Kol Mikaelson are now weapons against the supernatural population. I mean, Kol just took out half of Europe's after a short stay. His wife included! The Mikaelsons are a bigger threat now than ever.”

“And are _you_ completely ignoring the fact that infection or not, if my family wanted to take every last one of you out, they would have already done it. We're here aren't we? Looking for a way to make sure nobody else gets hurt?” Hope replied, quieting the room. Her voice echoed, tone sweetened with youth but hardened with fierce intention. “I know I'm young, but I care about this city and the people too. I'm the only person here who can say they belong to all the factions, right? So trust me when I say we're in this together. I don't want anyone else to die, and whatever we need to do to make sure of that, lets just stop yelling and do it.”

“So it's that easy,” Vincent gestured around the table and leaned forward, “you want us to all hold hands and see this thing through together?” He pushed back in his chair and folding his arms tightly, “what do you want me to tell the witches? No magic allowed except for the wolves? Because that's what your mom is suggesting. Do you agree?”

“No,” Hope said softly, looking clearly uncomfortable, “I don't. I think if you are all expected to trust my family, this city needs to trust each faction of its people. I say Marcel needs to lift the magic ban and trust that we can work together on this.”

Vincent smiled slow and thin, “how do you propose we convince Marcel, whose bite, may I remind you, can still kill any one of your family members? He's top dog now and won't even bother to participate in these discussions.”

“That may be true, but he'll come to realize that while me and my family are of no threat to the people and the city, I am a threat to him. Top dog my ass.” Elijah glanced at Hayley, suppressing a smile. He had never seen her so taken aback. It would be more enjoyable if not for the inevitable mess this turn of events would leave the family in.

Vincent chuckled and tapped the table. “Bold words. Have anything to back them up?”

Hope lifted her chin and stared him down, stating simply, “I'm the only person he can't compel and I'm immune to his bite.”

Hayley finally found her voice and it shook violently, “how do you even know that?”

Hope clamped her mouth shut and didn't look up until Vincent erupted in an exaggerated slow clap.

“Well, well. Little Hope Mikaelson...welcome to the game.”

 

* * *

 

 

“What in the _HELL_ were you thinking?!” Hayley's words echoed deafeningly against the stone walls of their courtyard.

Hope squawked back, with her hands in the air, “you told me to go with my instinct!”

“Yeah? Well your instinct sucks. When were you going to tell me about Marcel?”

Hope crossed her arms and nodded once, pursing her lips before spatting, “thanks Mom...and I wasn't planning on it at all.”

Elijah shuffled forward and said tentatively, “If I may...”

Hayley stopped him in his tracks with pointed finger and a venomous glare, “you shut the hell up.”

Hope cut in loudly, “you wanted me to stand in for Freya but it's a little unclear why. Like, why bring me at all if I'm not supposed to figure out my place in all of this? I do exist. I am who I am and now it's time to figure out where I belong, right? Well I belong to all three. I _am_ all three. No, I'm more than that. I'm not just a witch, wolf, and vampire. I still bleed and cry like a human and I still love my family. I'm a Mikaelson and I'm fucking tired of everyone telling me what to do and how to feel. This is my life too. I'm scared for Aunt Rebekah and Freya too. Yeah, a bigger target on my back but so what? Marcel can't hurt me, nobody can.”

Elijah tried again, louder this time, facing his niece, “do you know how many men have fallen for saying such things?”

She tossed him a narrowed glare, “good thing I'm not a man.”

Bruno's clacking claws sounded out as he mozied into the room, tail wagging at the sight of Hope returned home. He licked at her dangling fingers, oblivious to the dramatics unfolding.

Hayley placed her hands on Hope's shoulders, squeezing tightly as she tried gently, “you can't go into something like that and make a stand for one faction and make a threat towards the rest.”

Hope jerked away from her mother's grasp, muttering, “uh, were we even at the same meeting – that's not what I did.”

“Yeah – !.” Hayley threw her hands into the air, and stated sternly, “– you did. You disagreed with the wolves and chose the witches and then made a huge threat towards Marcel and the vampires.”

“Because that's the reality of it, Mom! Why wouldn't I choose the witches? Magic is the biggest part of me.”

“You come from two werewolves, that's the only reason you're even here.”

“I was born because two wolves hooked up one night. But I was reborn because of magic. I came back as something that I don't understand and I need help. I don't have Aunt Freya anymore. I need the witches to trust me so that we can get our family back and we can cure this infection.”

Hayley shook her head and said in exasperation, “we can't, there _is no cure;_ we have to prevent it. We can't prevent it with everyone paranoid about a power shift. We need to be on as even a playing field as possible. The witches can't practice wherever they want while the wolves can only enter certain areas with permission.”

“Stop making everything about the wolves. In case you've forgotten, there are people who exist outside of the pack that need our help.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” When Hope said nothing, just twitched a brow, Hayley stepped forward and glowered, “well?”

“It _means_ that maybe you should put your own family above a bunch of werewolves. It _means_ that a little support wouldn't kill you or your precious pack. I only want my family to be whole and to love each other again.” Hope turned away, brushing away tears while stalking up the stairs, “I'm trying to fix things the best I can.”

Bruno climbed behind her, slowing to peer back as if waiting for Hayley to join. When she didn't, he bowed his head and skittered off after Hope. Elijah walked towards the drink cart and blindly plucked a bottle, uncapping and tilting it straight into his mouth. Hayley stared, wondering if this was some sort of dramatic way to tell her he was over all of this or if he really needed it because of the limited blood supply.

The bottle clanked loudly to the cart, rattling the others. He hadn't even offered her any. Strange. Even at his angriest he had always been polite and courteous.

“You...okay?” she asked hesitantly. Not that she cared right now. She was only making sure he wasn't about to go blood thirsty on the city and unleash a supernatural apocalypse. And yeah, maybe a part of her...a very small part...worried about the sadness in his eyes. He looked to be in a constant state of grief and she knew, with that same very small part, that he would never have betrayed them in these ways... not knowingly.

Elijah didn't speak. He just stood there as if struggling to form the words. His eyes finally lifted to hers across the fountain, trickling water masking the way her heart pounded. Red rimmed and tears threatening to spill, he blinked and looked to his feet.

“I...I can't seem to answer that in the ways that I need to,” he croaked, shoving his hands into his pants pockets.

It seemed a strange way to answer her, but this was a weird situation. Though, it was hard to shake the feeling that he was trying to say something else. Or she was just keyed up over the meeting and tired as hell, misreading his mannerisms entirely. He appeared to be in deep thought, but snapped out of it when her phone buzzed. Klaus's name glowed on the screen; she'd just have to call him back.

“That him?” Elijah asked softly, walking slowly around the fountain to stop near her.

She didn't like being this close to Elijah. Not anymore. She could scent the way his skin smelled dotted in sweat and the way the cigar smoke clung to his neatly gelled hair. He smelled like a man, similar to Klaus in some ways but what was uniquely his... it did something to her gut. It was then that she realized just how damn much this had hurt her – that _he_ had hurt her. Even if it hadn't been Elijah, it was still _him_. Those same hands and mouth and teeth and...

Hayley declined the call with a stamp of her thumb, shoving it back into her pocket. “And if it was?”

Elijah wet his lips and tilted his chin towards the balcony, as if catching a sound. Then, looking towards her with only his eyes he asked quietly, “when you decide to take his call, could you do me a favor and ask him something for me?”

She bit her lip and shrugged, “what is it?” Hayley wondered if she sounded as irritated as she felt.

Elijah didn't seem to notice or care. He held a hand up and she noticed his fingers were shaking. “ask him if he remembers what he did to that girl in Spain; 1699.”

Hayley shook her head and maneuvered around him towards the stairs. Gripping the railing she stated over her shoulder, “I don't have time for this.”

His voice rose, “you must make time. It is important that he remembers. Before the next moon.”

She climbed heavily, pausing at the top to state in exasperation, “what in the hell are you trying to say? I don't like riddles. They are stupid and waste time.”

Elijah closed his eyes and a hint of a smile tugged his lips, as if what she said amused him. Looking up at her he sighed, “I happen to agree. Just...please, Hayley.”

 

* * *

 

It was so easy to scale and climb walls now. Hope found that her reflexes were amazingly on point and that her body had no troubles in responding exactly the way she needed it to. Not only that, but the speed in which she moved was super helpful. Sneaking over to Uncle Elijah's across the street to steal a cigarette was something she wouldn't dare try with her father home. But her mother was sidetracked by Uncle Elijah now in the courtyard. Totally worth the effort and risk to ease her nerves with a good nicotine buzz after a meeting like that.

A voice pierced the silence, “well, well.”

Hope yelped and jumped, knocking over a bottle. The whirring sound of vampire speed and the slap of the bottle hitting skin flooded her senses before her brain caught up. Uncle Kol placed the bottle gently back onto the drink cart, having caught it mid air, and tossed her a huge grin.

“You almost cost your uncle thousands of dollars. Elijah's favorite bourbon tastes as expensive as it has become over the years.”

“Uncle Kol...” Hope breathed out, clutching her chest. She hated surprises.

He noticed the cigarette between her fingers and she glanced at it sheepishly. Hope shrugged in defeat, asking hopefully, “can you keep a secret?”

“Oh darlin, you have no idea. I'll smoke one with you if it'll give me some time with my niece.”

Hope nodded and let him trail behind her to the balcony she shared her last cigarette on. Turning to him and taking a drag, she asked, “so...what are you doing back?”

“I...the infection. It's best I'm here for now. Things are a mess in Europe because of me. I don't know how far it has spread by now.”

Hope could tell he was smashed drunk. Not sloppy and tripping all over himself, but dazed and uninhibited. She'd seen Henry drink himself into this state plenty of times when the guilt of their affair hit him at times.

“Tell you what. If I help you, could you help me get my wife back?” His eyes looked exactly like Elijah's and his hair wavier and thick like her father's.

Hope flicked at her cig, watching the ash float to their feet. “Where is Davina?”

“Well, love, she's dead,” he pointed to his chest, swaying slightly and stating thickly, “because of _me._ ”

She nearly choked on her exhaled smoke. “Oh...oh god, I'm sorry. I didn't know...”

“Now you do. So how about it. Think you can perform a resurrection without setting the world on fire with dark magic's inevitable backlash?”

Hope felt the butterflies assault her gut. Dark magic terrified her if she was honest. “I don't know...Aunt Freya isn't here to help...”

“Hey now, I was once quite the witch myself. I know plenty.”

When he stared at her too long and started taking steps towards her, she thrust the half smoked cig towards him, stating nervously, “okay...I should get back now. I'll think about it.”

He grabbed her arm. It hurt and his grip only tightened. Low and evenly, he said, “I know what's going to happen and if you help me. I can help you stop it.”

“You know about the prophecy?” She didn't even notice the pain in her arm anymore, the adrenaline had taken care of that.

“Yes, I know of one of them. They change a lot when choices are made. I made one. Thought it was right. Landed me a widower. Imagine that. Should have chosen option A. Can't trust a seer to give you all the information.”

“You spoke with Edith? The seer?”

“No, no. Marcel and Rebekah gave me my choice. Just like you'll be given one. A piece of advice...go with the choice that sucks the most. If I had done that, maybe Davina would still be here.”

Hope's phone dinged and she noticed a text from a number she didn't recognize. “I have to get back, maybe we can continue this later?” Staring at the message, her eyes widened. Vincent wanted her and Elijah to meet him at the cemetary now.

Uncle Kol sucked down the rest of her cigarette and replied in the cloudy exhale, “plan on it, sweetheart.”

 

* * *

 

Hayley's familiar tone raked through this thoughts, “ _Klaus_.” He hummed in response, flicking on his high beams. This house was in the middle of nowhere. Her words filled the car when he put the call on speaker, tossing the phone to the seat, “It's like I can feel you smiling all the way in Louisiana. Please tell me you aren't happy our kid just started a war in the middle of a deathly infectious outbreak.”

“I'm not smiling,” he lied, catching a glimpse of his toothy grin in the rear view mirror. Of course he wasn't thrilled that Hope just unnecessarily complicated things for the grown ups, but how could he not be proud of the air of Mikaelson she exuded in her first faction meeting? His daughter made a stand, though too early in the game in his opinion. She would learn – and then she would understand that she was out of her league. Klaus intended to be there as her main supporter when she inevitably fell, for it was something he could successfully offer her as a father.

Hayley finally let out a soft chuckle and said, “me either. She messed up but...it was good to see her so brave after watching her tremble in a closet for years. You know? Maybe all that time Hope just needed the opportunity to fight back. I should have let her help Freya or Ric more...I don't know...”.

“You know the saying about hindsight as well as I,” he offered quietly, brakes squeaking to a halt in front of the large brick home. The gutters overflowed with pine needles and decayed leaves and the home was surrounded by overgrown grass. A dim light could be seen through an upstairs window, shadows shifting from movement within.

“True,” Hayley breathed, crinkling the reception of the call. Silence stretched and the light flicked off, leaving the house still and dark. Now or never.

“Sleep well tonight,” he murmured, hands still gripping the steering wheel.

“I'll do my best. Mind if I use your bed?”

He peered towards the front door, deep in thought. Yet, he still managed to converse lightly with Hayley, “I rather enjoy the idea of you tangled in my sheets. And while I wish we could continue this conversation, I must be going, love.”

“Loose ends?”

“Dangling by a thread. Wish me luck?”

“You got it,” she replied lightly. He was about to hang up when her voice called out for him again. “Elijah wanted me to ask you about a girl from Spain. He said a year with it, 1699 I think.”

“What? Look, I do have to be going. I will call you later.” As if he had time for Elijah's walk down memory lane right now. If his brother wanted to reach out and reminisce, then perhaps he should do it on his own time and not in the middle of a bloody crisis.

Klaus stepped out of the car, tucking away his phone and flexing his hearing. Still awake, he could hear the familiar sounds of a cell phone game Hope always played before bed. Perhaps all teenage girls behaved in the same manner.

After several loud knocks and signs of lights filling the home as steps approached, the oak door swung open.

“What the hell do you want?” Ada snapped.

This would be quite a long night because he did not intend on leaving until Hope's best friend forgave him for her father's death and agreed to move to New Orleans. His daughter needed someone and this girl couldn't very well waste away in this lonely and crumbling house. This Henry left behind a daughter with no one to care for her.

And when Klaus peered at the dark haired girl, with a scowl for a seemingly default expression, it wasn't Hope that she reminded him of. No, the soft spot he held for Ada was based purely on how the woman who was keeping his bed warm at home made him feel towards a sharp tongued girl in combat boots. She could easily be mistaken for Hayley's kin.

“Could you be a dear and invite me in?”

When she rolled her eyes and laughed out loud he shrugged and cocked his head, “I will not leave until you have heard my apology and taken my offer into consideration. But first, I must urge you to allow me inside for the news I bring isn't the easiest to digest.”

It looked like she was giving in, her arms falling to the sides of her gold skirt. So it appeared she'd taken a job at that bar that favored eighteen year olds who looked fifteen at best. Klaus drained the place once, he'd always hated the shimmering skirts, blank strained smiles, and bad service. Klaus took a step forward, eager to get to it...but was met with the slamming door mere centimeters from his nose.

Perhaps his original assessment was no exaggeration at all. If it took all night, so be it. This was his grand gesture, if only the little witch Ada accepted her part in it.

 

* * *

 

 

Hayley settled into Klaus's bed, burrowing under the silken sheets. She breathed in, leaving the french doors to his balcony open for tonight. Wind rushed in lazy gusts and calmed her; she liked to be able to hear into the distance with all of the threats swarming their existence lately. The pillow smelled like his shampoo and skin and all she wanted was to close her eyes and fall into the deepest sleep of her life. She knew it wasn't possible, not with all the unsolved problems dumping into her life at present.

“Mom?” Hope called out from the doorway.

Kicking off the covers, Hayley sat up to eye her daughter. She asked wearily, “why are you holding Elijah's car keys?”

“I got a text from Vincent. He has Mitch Bronston.”

The ornate post nearly splintered from Hayley banging into it as she tore out of the bed. “He's alive?”

“Barely,” Hope murmured.

As Hayley began to pull on her clothes, Hope stated unsteadily, “he only wants to speak with me. I saw Uncle Elijah outside and he's letting me use his car since Dad has the other one.”

Hayley froze in place, her shirt half way on. “No. No way. If the witches have one of my people, then I need to be there. And what were you doing outside?”

Hope shifted on her feet, keys jangling in her fidgeting hands. “It has to be just me. I swear I'll do my best. Do you trust me?”

She considered her daughter for a moment. Hopeful eyes and determined expression. Hayley tried to remember how many times she failed to let her daughter fight back in her own ways. She had to trust her. If not now, then would she ever?

“Yes. Please be careful and try and bring my guy home. He has a son who misses him.”

Hayley watched Hope from the balcony and felt an icy cold dread when she noticed Elijah sat in the passenger seat. Something was going on and maybe the riddled way Elijah spoke to her earlier was his way of warning her. She needed Klaus to get back to her. If not for answers, but for someone to share the burden of keeping their daughter from creating a mess that couldn't be wiped clean.

 

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

**Ch.14**

**Song Rec: _Lean_ by RY X**

* * *

 

It reeked so bad inside of the cemetery mausoleum. Hope pinched her nostrils shut, breathing through her mouth as Uncle Elijah held the delicate handkerchief to his nose. Mitch Bronston lay in a pool of thick oily sweat, a putrid sourness saturating the air. Hope crept closer, wondering why his eyes stayed open even though he was spelled to sleep. Blood leaked from the corners like dribbling tears and when she reached out to touch him, Uncle Elijah grabbed her wrist and yanked hard. His expression reminded her that they weren't sure about all of the infection's possible dangers yet. Rubbing her wrist and glowering at him, she took a step back.

Vincent lit another candle as he waved a hand grasped around the bundle of burning herbs. His voice echoed against the crumbling walls, “you can only catch it through ingesting his blood, I'd be sick now if it were through touch.” His skin shone with sweat and his voice dragged as he continued, “the infection fights against the magic and it's winning. But we have found a way to slow it down and buy werewolf victims time. ”

Hope hovered nearby Uncle Elijah's side, wondering if he was as close to barfing as she. Through a small cough Hope asked, “what about other victims? Like witches?”

The herbs smoked heavily, casting a gray veil over Vincent's features. He replied in a tone she was too nauseous to get upset over, like she was stupid or something. “We haven't had any others survive long enough to try anything with. We think being in wolf form slows the spread of infection, but he transitioned back into his human body when the infection rendered him too ill to control it one way or the other. So now we're using a stasis spell; it's only slowing things to a crawl rather than a trot.”

Hope lifted her hands in an eager gesture, replying brightly, “okay, well this is perfect. My blood and his blood right? We'll mix up the cure and return Mitch to the pack. Everyone will need the witches for the cure so you still have the power and control.”

Vincent turned his back to her, waving the herbs higher over Mitch's body. He stated over his shoulder, “the cure takes time, he won't survive long enough for that and do mind what you say in front of your uncle.” Hope rolled her eyes impatiently.

Vincent spun back around and pointed a finger towards her. He added with a stern expression, “It's a good thing Marcel looks out for you. He's compelled Elijah to keep his mouth shut about anything he picks up on until our job is complete.”

Uncle Elijah shot him a look, but he remained silent, eyes scanning the alter another witch stood at, her unsteady hands raised. Uncle Elijah had a presence to him that was super unsettling, like he was two seconds from snapping. Hope wondered why Vincent wanted him here if Uncle Elijah couldn't contribute anything towards the cure or conversation.

Vincent laid the burning bundle at the alter and continued, “But with the wolves cooperation, we'd like to keep a hold of him to figure out just how long our spell and potions can keep an infected wolf alive.”

Hope ran a hand through her tangled hair. Could nothing ever go smoothly?

“That's not going to be easy, but I'll try to convince my mom. Is there anything I can do for Mitch? Does he suffer?”

“He will pass with no pain, tell your mother he's in good hands. Though, could you leave some of your blood behind to strengthen our potions with? It could offer him some relief and buy more time.”

Hope obliged, slicing into her hand and dripping a decent amount into a vial. Corking it, she slid the glass across the alter. Uncle Elijah stepped outside, the smell probably getting to him. It was definitely getting to her. Before she could join him, Vincent grabbed her arm and a sharp jolt rattled inside her skull. Vincent's voice was all around, echoing in her thoughts. It was worse than a migraine.

_“It's time you understand what is expected of you. Are you ready?”_

He let go and she dizzily nodded in agreement, rubbing her temples and swallowing against a wave of nausea. Hope froze in stunned silence as a thud outside was followed by several witches dragging in the lifeless body of Uncle Elijah. She stared at the way his fingers twitched in the dirt, her ears roared like she was underwater. Vincent poured her blood into Uncle Elijah's slack mouth, muttering an incantation in a rapid tongue. As soon as Vincent stopped, Elijah jerked awake. Hope could feel the ground sway beneath her as she fought against something strong jolt her senses. Her fingernails scraped into stone as Hope gripped the wall to steady herself.

“Good to see you again,” Vincent murmured, peering into Elijah's widened eyes.

Hope found her voice, confused by what was playing out. “Is he still my uncle?”

“No, we put Uncle Elijah away for a moment so I can talk to the both of you without the full moon. This won't hold for long, so do listen carefully.”

“I don't like this...Elijah...I – I, uh...” Hope started feeling the pins and needles creeping up her spine that usually meant a total freak out episode was near.

Elijah lifted to his feet, dusting off as he glanced at her in alarm.

Vincent shook his hand towards Hope, giving her a seriously hesitant look, “the only way to save everyone from this deadly infection is with the blood of that who has all of the same magical _and_ ancestral properties as what has formed this deathly bite. Hope would be the closest to fit that description with her natural born link to witches, werewolves, and vampires. But there's one thing missing and that's the blood of a Mikaelson carrier.”

“I'm a Mikaelson,” Hope said, swallowing hard. Her tongue was so dry it stuck to the back of her throat.

Vincent folded his arms and shook his head as if saddened by his answer. “Not by blood you aren't. And you were never bitten by Marcel and cured with the seven pack wolf venom, therefore you aren't a carrier of this infection.”

Hope leaned against the dusty wall, her palms slick with sweat. “So how do we combine our blood?”

“Look, when you returned as a triple goddess, it left you with unique abilities. It's those very abilities that will pass along into the cure.” Vincent paused and started pacing the room, his dragging steps sounding like sandpaper on the debris-ridden floor. He didn't look her in the eye as he said with a jerk of his chin towards Elijah, “go on. Ask him what he knows. He has to tell you now.”

Her eyes shifted towards the stoic expression Elijah wore. Her throat felt too tight. “What do you know?”

Elijah wet his lips, jaw jutted forward as he sucked in a gulp of air. Exhaling, he replied hoarsely, “I knew I would father a child, I was only recently made aware of with whom.”

“Wha- _what_ are you saying?” She glanced back and forth so quickly between the two men that her hair flew wildly.

Mitch let out a sputtering cough, drawing her attention. Elijah spoke over it in an eerily calm tone, “I cannot let all that Edith sacrificed be in vain. She believed in this cure and in the child's future.”

“If you're saying what I think you're saying then that's not even possible. Vampires can't procreate. This doesn't make any sense...” Hope slid to the ground, fingernails digging into her arms as she clutched herself.

Covering her face she muttered, “no. There's another way. Kol said he would help, let's involve him. He might know some sort of spell or – ”

Vincent placed a hand on her shoulder. She glanced at it when he stated, “Kol was approached first for this specific role and he turned it down even after what was revealed to him by the seer if he did not accept. He believed he could test fate. Now, with Davina gone, all he cares about is getting her back. Something that isn't possible, just so we are clear. As a triple goddess, you will lose your life permanently if you resurrect another.”

Hope had barely heard him. Blinking slowly she croaked, “you want me to conceive a child with my uncle?”

Vincent sucked in a deep breath and spoke quickly, but quietly, “in short, yes. Rebekah and Freya came up with this split in consciousnesses idea to spare your uncle from the betrayal and pain it will inflict on the family. He would never choose this, just as Kol did not. The premonition proved most successful with Elijah fathering the child and we were running out of time with Inadu strengthening. She would take Edith soon and kill Hope before we could establish a bond and permanently split Elijah's consciousness.”

A tear fell down her cheek, dripping hot and drying cold. Hope tried to sound strong but her words came out brittle and soft, “we can't do this to them.”

Vincent closed his eyes briefly, jaw taut under clenched teeth.“If you do not have this child, a lot of good people die. In one scenario you lose both parents. Years have gone into figuring out how to stop a lot of bad outcomes and this is what we are left with. It is our only option but you are a kid yourself. This is messed up, I know. That's why I do have one other option, both aunts agreed it would not harm the prophecy.”

Hope nodded in a jerky and rigid movement, eyes darting between Vincent's and Elijah's.

“The dagger I asked you to use on him before. You can make him whole again, fuse this Elijah to your Uncle. You can give him a choice. Marcel doesn't know about this loophole but your aunt's and I...” Vincent swallowed hard, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, “we know you both deserve some sort of choice in this. We did our best to get you both to this point with as little involvement from your parents as possible. Use the dagger and speak to your uncle as a whole man.”

Hope flushed as her body trembled against all this confusing and terrifying information. So she really didn't have control, no matter how powerful she was as a triple goddess. If she chose to honor her family, the cure is never born and she could lose them anyway. If she chose to have the child...

Elijah's words echoed gently inside the cramped mausoleum, “how long do we have?”

 

 

* * *

 

Ada's knuckles turned white against his armrest as the plane lifted with pushing force from the runway. Klaus could hear her fluttering heart like a mallet pounding after a butterfly. He wondered, as she slowly released her grip and blew out a pent up breath, if she had ever flown before. The thought hadn't crossed yet when he convinced her to join him on the first flight back to New Orleans.

Hope's text had interrupted their argument in Mystic Falls that had left Ada in tears and him feeling even more assured that he indeed was a monster at his core.

“Wasted a trip up here...” she had said, moving around the room to thrust clothing into a book bag. She jut her chin forward and stated plainly, “I would have come to her whether you and I talked or not. Hope says she's scared and needs me.”

He had assured her that it was no wasted trip if it meant having the opportunity to apologize to not only her, but make things right with others harmed in his daughter's brief reign of terror here. When Ada looked at him like he was speaking in tongues, he had smiled and explained, “the only way I can make it up to my daughter is to make sure the people she harmed because of me are suffering less. The art teacher's family is taken care of and your home has been sold to a lovely family with two dogs and a baby on the way. I've set you up an account with our bank in New Orleans, though you are free to move it elsewhere.”

Klaus found that her response both delighted and wounded him. She looked so sincere when she'd said, “you know...every time I find myself liking you a tiny bit, the memory of your hands snapping my dad's neck reminds me of what a damn mistake that would be.”

There was no budging when it came to his need to put his family first, even if measures were extreme and in hindsight – unnecessary. Henry's death had been unnecessary and there were two young girls that would never forgive him. For, they could not forgive that which he would do again in a heart beat. He did not like loose ends. Not one bit.

“Do you think she's alright?” he asked again as Ada messed with the window shade.

“She said she needed me and that she's scared. By the time we get there, she could feel totally different. You never know with Hope,” Ada said, voice strained from residual anxiety. She gathered up her long raven hair and tossed it over her shoulder, leaning over to rummage in her purse. He noted the tremble in her hands when she pulled out her ipod.

He wasn't ready to give up. “Tell me about what happened between your father and Hope. I don't imagine she will ever share it with me after I...”

Ada stared at him and bluntly filled in, “after you killed the first love of her life?”

He almost smiled, replying, “you have such a daggering way with words.”

She shrugged, “well...what do you want to know?”

“I'd like to understand my daughter more.”

“You disappointed?”

“Of course not. I'm the monster. She's only young and in pain. It's excusable and even expected in a way.” He glanced towards the cross dangling from her pale and thrumming throat. “What about you, Ada? Do you find that your faith keeps you out of the sort of trouble my daughter finds herself in? Or do you just find all your demons instantly forgiven merely because you ask.”

“That's not how it works. I make choices every day and sometimes they are wrong and selfish. Have you ever made a wrong or selfish choice that didn't land you somewhere bad? My faith doesn't keep me out of trouble, it is there for me whether I'm at my best or worst. I only ask forgiveness after I've figured out why I've done it and how I'll never do it again. Otherwise, it's sort of just like asking for permission to fall for it again guilt free.”

Klaus cocked his head, eyeing her sharp features. “Interesting.”

“I'm not really anything. I wear it because it was my grandmother's. I believe in something bigger and better than all of us, but I don't know that it fits inside a box, you know?”

“Oh, yes. I grew up learning of Odin and Valhalla. I still find myself looking for signs from him in times of war, as he does favor the illicit.” He waggled his eyebrows at her and smiled, “and I've always fancied myself an outlaw.”

Ada met him with a vacant expression, seemingly immune to his usual successful charms. She popped the can of cola open and took a gulp while he continued, “I suppose the notion that we are not worthy of the cosmos is embedded in us all. I like you, Ada. I trust you must care very much for Hope and I appreciate that more than you could know.”

“She made my dad happy again. I'm not sure I realized it back then when exactly they shifted from an appropriate relationship to their romantic one because they always seemed the same in front of me. But I got to thinking the other day about how one weekend he just...stopped hugging me. I couldn't help but feel like that since he started touching her in that way, he felt dirty even giving me a hug. It still hurts.”

“It was merely the way his guilt manifested. Unfortunately.”

“Right. But other than that, he was always in such a good mood. He was way happier than he was even when my mom was around. I think he really loved her, and it cost him his life just like I knew it would in one way or another.”

Klaus waved for the flight attendant. It was time for a strong drink. “He was a good man, your father?”

“Yes, a very good man. He helped Hope out a lot when she was hiding the worst of her anxiety from Hayley. He's helped a lot of witches out and asked for nothing in return. He was kind and funny and I miss him...” She looked up at him, tears shining, “I wish I would have tried to understand them rather than waste time so...hurt.”

“She was far too young for him, he knew that or he wouldn't have withheld physical affection from his teenage daughter. It was right to be angry, it was a relationship that was not supposed to be okay.”

“I don't know,” Ada shrugged, “if my dad was over a thousand years old I guess a forty something year old seems pretty young. I'm not angry anymore, just sad.”

Klaus watched her fingers, adorned with bulky rings and black nail polish, fidget with a rip in her jeans. He hoped this girl was what his daughter needed to feel less scared and more at home in this new life he was trying desperately to forge for them all. Perhaps then there would be room for healing with Elijah. He needed his help in getting their sisters back. And, at times, he simply needed him.

What was it Hayley was going on about with Elijah...that girl from Spain in 1699. Klaus rolled the memory around as Ada rummaged in her bag for headphones. That young girl had approached them and begged for months to pay attention to what she wasn't saying. It had been Elijah who figured out she'd been compelled by Mikael to keep a secret for him...a secret she had not wanted to keep because she had fallen for Elijah in the process. But under compulsion, it was impossible for her to warn them of Mikael's approach. It was impossible for her to fight against the letters she wrote and sent, telling him of their locations, plans, hopes and dreams. Her secret had simply been that one part of her worked for Mikael and she could not remember that part when she was with Elijah and Klaus.

Klaus killed the girl, and it had devastated Elijah...but such things had a way of becoming less painful in time. They never spoke of her again. Until now. Why?

His eyes widened, earning him a questioning glance from Ada.

“What?” she asked, pulling an earbud out and pausing her screen with a tap.

“How experienced are you with overriding compulsion?”

“That's hard to do, it takes a lot of power. My dad actually had a potion he created that helps strengthen that bridge between witch and compelled subject. Helps the pain too.” Ada twisted in her seat, raven hair tumbling over her shoulder. “Why?”

Klaus pursed his lips and replied, “I need you to help me with something – and it is absolutely imperative that you keep it between us. I understand this is a lot to ask, but it is for Hope's safety.”

Ada nodded, “yeah...if it helps keep her safe, I'm pretty sure you've proven you'll do anything to achieve that.” She worried her lip before adding, “I don't think I'm strong enough if it's Elijah I'm doing this to. I thought you weren't successful so far with him and you've used witches plenty stronger than me.”

“I believe something has changed. Freya's body is being transported to New Orleans by a trusted ally, I imagine you can use my sister to channel any extra energy needed.” He sunk further into the seat, leaning closer to whisper, “discretely of course.”

 

* * *

 

Hope glanced at her watch. Three more minutes until this Elijah disappeared and her uncle returned. Three minutes to get him back to his home where she could talk to Uncle Kol and beg for help.

They were a mere ten feet from the entrance when Elijah tugged her into the shadows and backed her against a brick wall with only a set of dark chocolate eyes and purposeful echoing steps on cobblestone. Hope bit her lip, unsure of what he was about to do. Was he going to... _kiss_ her? His palms flattened on either side of her head against the chipped wall and lips brushed so close to her cheek that she froze.

Hope shivered as his words tickled against her ear, “do you wish to know a secret?”

She furrowed her brows and replied near his tilted ear, “I don't like secrets.”

“I have something of great value to you. I'll give it to you if you give me the dagger.”

“Why do you want the dagger? I need it to make you whole.”

Elijah said sharply, “that's precisely what I am trying to avoid. I cannot risk this child never being born. I've made my choice, from my understanding your uncle may be harder to persuade.”

Hope shook her head, “what do you have of mine?”

“Not what. Who.” Elijah's mouth hovered near the tip of her nose now. She strained to look him in the eye as he uttered a single name, “Henry.”

Hope pushed him back to exclaim, “what are you saying? Henry is dead.” Anger boiled, she felt it in her fingertips. How dare Elijah bring him up at all.

Elijah opened his mouth to respond, but three minutes had passed and it was Uncle Elijah who looked around in confusion. Her answer would have to wait.

A look of concern transformed his features as a car passed by. The headlights cast shadows across his face and the sight of all his sharp edges only made her feel sicker.

He asked with a tentative step, “are you alright?”

Hope pushed off the wall and fled towards home, tears stinging like acid. What in the hell was she supposed to do now? She'd text Ada. Ada wouldn't leave her alone in this, no matter what. Hope knew if she needed her, she would be here...but only if Hope asked.

When things got bad, and Hope felt cornered, it made her feel like those nights in the closet with drugs in her veins and death beckoning her with skeleton blue fingers. If she took this on alone, it was possible she'd make the wrong decisions because her mind wouldn't be right. Since becoming a triple goddess, it had definitely gotten better. Maybe even cured. She didn't know yet...but the cold dread was intense and she needed her best friend.

Someone caught Hope's arm just before she made it inside the gate, tugging her into the shadows aside the looming structure. Hope smelled the familiar scotch soaking Uncle Kol's words as he stated, “you need to stay away from him, I don't think he's quite himself.”

She threw her arms around Kol's neck and leaned her cheek slightly against his, the scruff of his beard thick with neglect. Hope tearfully murmured, “I don't think I have a choice. You know what is supposed to happen. Vincent told me.”

His pungent exhale sent an eruption of goosebumps across her skin. She jerked under his cool touch, his fingers lightly threading through her hair and resting at her temple.

“Show me what happened after you died. Show me the place you went to.”

Hope felt him pry, it was an odd feeling. Like a presence...a parasite. How did he even know about that...

“Relax,” Kol added in a soothing tone. Feeling like she didn't have any choice, she obeyed and replayed the conversation in that strange afterlife place. For her it replayed in a flash, but for him he lived it, like a walking dream or memory.

At the end, the sound of little Henrik's cries brought on a wave of despair and she blinked against the dribbling tears as Kol's fingers dropped from her skin. He took several steps back.

“I knew my mother had a bigger hand in this,” he muttered. Something had changed in her uncle's eyes. Hope swallowed hard, the pieces clicking together.

“Uncle Kol...” she began shakily. His brows raised in response, head hanging in defeat. “What color were your brother Henrik's eyes?”

He looked away, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Brown..”, Kol scratched absently at his neck.

“Not blue...” she whimpered, panic cold like a drenching rain.

He grasped her shoulder, replying, “that boy's name may be Henrik, but that was not my brother.”

Hope cupped a shaky hand over her trembling lips. The little boy who seemed so sick and so upset when she had to leave...the one who reminded her of her father and left her feeling desperate in those seconds his wails echoed through her resurrection. His large blue eyes and familiar smile. This had to be Esther's way to make sure Hope understood what would be lost if she didn't embrace her role, of course.

Hope had met her son. Elijah's son. The little boy was suffering in that place until she brought him here, that's what Esther wanted her to understand. And if she conceived a child with Elijah, maybe that's when her aunts could come back. Maybe Elijah was right. That dagger needed to be destroyed and Uncle Elijah couldn't know...not until they conceived Henrik – their Henrik.

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Ch. 15**

**Song Rec: “Penny Sweets” by Winter Aid**

* * *

 

Hayley's eyes shot open when something cool touched her shoulder blade. The pillow was still damp with tears. Nothing made her cry quite like an amateur parenting fail. Hope hadn't wanted to talk when she'd returned from seeing Vincent, speeding past Hayley with pale lips and red rimmed eyes. Hayley had called her out on leaving from Elijah's, but that of course blew up. The slam of a bedroom door in her face seemed like a parental rite of passage...but it hurt way worse than she'd imagined, no matter how expected the teenage outburst was. Shit, Hayley had perfected the act with Mrs. Marshall. Nothing had felt better than the satisfying solid wood wall slamming between hers and her adoptive mother's face – and it brought Hayley to tears understanding that Hope felt the same victory in her mother's struggle.

“Just me...” Klaus murmured, letting his fingertips linger at her bare skin for a moment. She blinked up at him, feeling an unexpected jolt in her belly. The moon glinted off his stubbled jawline and he smelled like wine.

Hayley untangled from the covers and rubbed at her swollen eyes.“You flew back?”

“Yes, I've brought Ada here to live with us for a while. She's surprising Hope now.” He kicked off his shoes, back turned to her. She watched the familiar lines of his body ripple and move as he tugged his shirt free and tossed it aside, not even a little surprised at the news.

Klaus's voice was warm and low like the flickering puddle of candles left on his nightstand. “I figure it will buy us some time to talk about what's to come.” She ignored the frustration that came with Klaus making decisions about Hope without her...but she bit her lip and softened at the meaning behind his gesture. Klaus was a good father, she'd never say otherwise.

His belt buckle clanked as Hayley checked her phone for the time. Klaus must have compelled his way onto a convenient flight; just a few hours until sunrise, she'd barely slept all night. Couldn't with Mitch suffering in a tomb and Hope so unhinged she'd locked herself away without a word. Klaus disappeared into his adjoining bathroom, voice echoing as he told her, “I know what Elijah is trying to tell us with his 1600's Spain reference.”

She sat up at this, hugging her knees and squinting towards the glow from the ajar door. Hayley could make out just a sliver of him, the scent of mint reaching her before the sound of his toothbrush and swooshing. Irritation flickered in her chest, she wished he would hurry up and tell her what was going on. Hope was obviously upset and keeping things from them. It left Hayley feeling like making people bleed...she didn't like it. Anger was her weakness but she'd learned long ago how to use it instead of bottling and lashing out. It was something she recognized in Klaus's struggles in the worst of times, something she wished she could help him with but she never dared try. But things _were_ different now...

The bathroom door creaked behind him as he padded around the room. A burst of cool air disturbed her hair as the vents kicked on; she played with her toes and wondered if he was wearing his boxers like that on purpose. Probably. His pubes were kind of showing just above the waistband, so – he knew.

Hayley tried raking her fingers through the tangles of her hair, as she suppressed a smile. Why the hell she was feeling awkward again, she didn't know. There was comfort in his company, but there was also this underlying frantic worry that things were headed in a direction she hadn't prepared for. If they went too far or not far enough..what would that do to Hope? Not that their kid was blinded by some false desire for her parents to be in love and together, but all things had an affect on something or someone – that was life. And Hayley's life now revolved around her daughter.

“Hayley?” Her eyes jerked from the lines of his pelvis to meet his tired gaze. He'd started saying her name differently ever since the whole body painting thing; _Hay_ ley – like he paused longer before his tongue formed the 'l'. And now the kissing her a lot more thing...it wasn't going unnoticed. It's _weird_ when he's away and she gets to thinking about him and how things were before and how they were now... Yet, when he's there with her it felt like it had always been this way.

“I think Elijah is in trouble,” Klaus murmured, swallowing hard. Her eyes honed in on his quickened pulse thumping just under his smooth neck. She felt an unexpected hunger; a pinch in the gums and twinge under the eyes –Hayley ducked her head, hoping he wouldn't notice.

“Tell me about this Spanish girl,” she urged, extending her legs and tugging at the hem of the night shirt. Hayley narrowed her eyes at the small smile tugging at his lips, following his gaze.

“Are you...” Klaus's grin grew. Hayley smirked at the realization that he smiled like the Grinch. How fitting. Klaus climbed onto the bed, prowling over her like a lion before he whispered with an arched brow, “...wearing my favorite boxers?”

“Caught me,” she shrugged, “they looked too soft to let them just sit unused in your top drawer with the weird handcuffs.”

Klaus mimicked her nonchalance with an exaggerated shrug and purse of the lips, “I like to eat in bed at times and find it both arousing and less messy if my meal is put in restraints.”

Hayley blanched. Sometimes he really did make her question his sanity. This time it was he who rolled his eyes, “I'm kidding sweetheart. I'm extremely paranoid when intimate with strangers. Just a spelled precaution that also provides a little fun. I think you can relate to that...”. He lowered his lips to the tip of her nose. She couldn't hide the grin if she wanted to.

Distant voices tugged her attention. They both glanced towards the door when two sets of footsteps could be heard down the hall. When they faded, Hayley placed a hand at Klaus's chest and gently pushed him away.

He rolled to the side and murmured an apology. She shook her head quickly, not wanting him to misunderstand the gesture for rejection, but Klaus's appetite was pretty damn distracting.

Hayley informed him as softly as she could, “Hope came home upset tonight, she went with Elijah to see Vincent and when she got back I could tell something was really wrong. She tried to mask it with anger and frustration but Klaus...” Hayely grabbed his hand, his cool fingers stiffening in her grasp, “I could tell she was terrified and upset.”

“Why was she with Elijah alone? You cannot allow this, I don't think he's in control.”

Hayley let out a short huff and retorted, “I didn't tell her she could go with Elijah, I told her she could go see Vincent to discuss Mitch's return. Dead or alive, he deserves to be with his family, and since your daughter took it upon herself to become spokesperson for a war she likely started at that faction meeting...well, I believe in letting people reap what they sow. How else will she learn and grow into someone that can survive without us?”

Hayley flinched when his hand jerked away and he replied through a glower, “why do you speak such things, she won't need to survive without us.” He poured himself a drink from the nearly empty scotch bottle she'd left on his nightstand, and downed it. “That's one circumstance she doesn't have to worry about.”

“If Elijah isn't himself or out of control in some way, then we need to focus on what he's trying to tell us. Protecting Hope comes first and she's...”, Hayley struggled against a knot in her throat, tugging at a strand of hair, “she's not letting me in. She's keeping secrets again and now Vince won't give up Mitch and Kol is piss ass drunk all the time putting Davina resurrection plans in Hope's ear. What if he messes up and feeds on someone? How are we supposed to baby sit them, it's inevitable that this infection gets out of hand.”

Klaus let out a low grumble and pinched the bridge of his nose, “ah yes, that reminds me. I need to bring a warm body to my brothers. Blood bags won't do for long.”

Hayley cocked her head, drawling, “you know...they just aren't cutting it for me either.”

“Let us feed and indulge in a little sleuthing. Get dressed and meet me in the courtyard in fifteen,” he instructed with his cheshire grin and waggle of dark honey brows.

* * *

 

Hope slid the blade down her leg, nicking herself near the ankle. Pink suds swirled at her feet down the drain. She felt like puking. Cool air rushed into the room, meaning someone opened the bathroom door.

“That you Bruno?” Hope called out. The old dog loved to lick the shower droplets from her legs when she stepped out. It was weird but kind of soothing.

“Woof woof,” a familiar voice stated. The scrape of the shower curtain startled her as a hand yanked it open.

“ADA!” Hope squealed, dropping the razor with a clatter. “What are you doing here?!”

“It turns out guilt is a powerful emotion. So powerful, it moved your daddy to take on another daughter for a while,” Ada grinned, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. “Plus, I got your text so I didn't need much convincing.”

Hope laughed and replied, “I dare you to call him Daddy at dinner,” then tilting her head she continued, “I am so glad you are here.” The relief was unbelievable. To have someone here to take on this turn in events with what Vincent revealed...it was exactly what she needed. She'd have to thank her dad somehow for this.

Ada's lips pursed and a look of concern flooded her pretty features. “What's wrong? You look weird.”

Tears welled and a choked sob erupted. There was literally no stopping it.

“Yikes, that bad huh?,” her friend sighed, “I need a shower anyway.”

Ada tore off her clothes and stepped into the shower to pull Hope into a hug. They used to shower together as kids, examining the changes in their young bodies and giggling over pubic hair. They never showered again after the one time they were intimate. But that wasn't on her mind this time, she only felt relief and overwhelming safety at being pressed into her friend's arms.

Pulling back and stepping under the stream to wet her hair, Ada stated softly, “so your dad tells me he's throwing quite the party and I get first pick of your aunt's dresses.”

Wiping the snot from her nose and slicking back her soaked hair, Hope sniffled, “is that so? God, I have so much to tell you.”

Ada turned to grab the shampoo, squirting out a dollop and replying, “well you better start spilling because your face is wigging me out. You don't spook so easy and I know that look. It's usually after you've done something really bad.”

“I will tell you everything, but not here. I can't risk being heard and while I can pick up on any snooping spells and secure my rooms, I can't control if he's set up recording devices, you know?”

The body wash smelled like lavender as it rinsed from Ada's toned body, Hope couldn't help but feel a twinge of something she shouldn't. She quickly pushed it away, focusing on how she was going to approach the subject of conceiving a baby with her uncle.

They exited the shower together, steam thick like fog around their heads. As Ada toweled her hair and Hope just stood there dripping and lost in thought, Bruno clawed at the door.

Letting him in, Ada murmured, “look, I'm worried about you and so is your dad. It sounds like your paranoia is acting up which only means you're having one of your episodes.”

Sadness trickled through Hope, she was so tired of people blaming everything on her episodes. She wrapped a towel tightly around her body, breasts spilling over the top uncomfortably. She let Bruno lap up the droplets running down her ankles and pictured what her best friend's expression would be once she found out Hope might become a mother.

When Hope said nothing, Ada perched on the toilet with cell phone in hand. Over the trickle of pee, she said quietly, “I spoke with the twins. Josie was able to dig up some stuff on that Edith woman. All they could find was that she studied under a...” Ada scrolled through her phone to read off, “Madam Crisantha.”

Hope sat on the lip of the tub near the toilet, bouncing her knee anxiously. “Are they working on figuring out who the hell that is?”

“Actually...” Ada wiggled her fingertips close to Hope's nose, “it just so happens your dad asked Caroline about her before he harassed me into coming home with him. Seems she's a contributor to the school and has a few great great great great great grandkids attending.”

Hope chuckled. “You sure that was enough greats?”

Ada shrugged, pulling the old toilet chain. Over the gurgling flush, she replied, “not really, but you get the point.”

“Yeah. Bitch is old.”

“Anyway, she's on the guest list for that party. I figure I can sidetrack your family somehow while you find...um...” Ada squinted towards the text again, trying to recall the name.

Hope stood with a stretch, guessing, “Lady Chrysanthemum?”

“ _So_ close. Madam Crisantha,” Ada chuckled. Hope shrugged and flicked on her hairdryer, the whirring causing a calm feeling of normalcy to fill the gigantic bathroom.

“Did my dad happen to mention what day this party falls on?”

“The twenty third.”

“The full moon...great....” Hope flicked the hairdryer off, deciding it would take far too long to dry her thick tangle of curls. She twisted it into a bun, wondering how she was going to both talk to Madam Crisantha and help Elijah pass off as Uncle Elijah in front of her family during the full moon.

“Come on, Mikaelson, spill. What's wrong? There are no recording devices, you know Hayley would flip her shit on him if he got caught spying on you. We can make sure your parents are still gone and everything.”

Hope let out a puff of pent up breath, nodding slowly. “Lets go sit down. I have quite the tale for you....”

* * *

 

Klaus gathered the tourists' hair delicately, staring Elijah in the eyes, crooning through a smile, “ladies first.”

Hayley bit in, the skin popping softly around her fangs. The first gulp hit her like a rush. She might have exaggerated the moan a bit, but making Elijah uncomfortable was a plan she and Klaus didn't discuss – yet they were working together on and reveling in their efforts.

“How's that, sweetheart?” he asked lowly, smearing a droplet from her chin with the rough pad of his thumb. Her gaze lingered at his mouth for too long as he licked the blood from his skin. It wasn't even planned, she was just high as hell on her first real feed in a while and a fire erupted down her spine.

“Yummy,” she replied with a smirk. Her fangs were still extended and it was probably the first time she didn't try to reel it all back in. Other than the night baby Hope left with Rebekah and Klaus took her to murder some witches and get drunk on blood, of course.

Kol let out an obnoxious groan and mumbled, “okay, we get it. Hayley gets to eat as much as she wants because you're fucking her. I'm starving, can we eat please?”

Klaus flared with pointed finger, “watch your tongue,”

Kol let out a guffaw, “are you seeing this, Elijah? My, my, Nik. It's been quite some time since I could ruffle your feathers over a girl.”

Hayley rolled her eyes and snapped, “I'm not some girl, I'm the mother of his child, dick. Eat so we can talk.”

The tourist would have to be killed because she'd be infected after their feed, so they didn't stop Kol from suckling the very last drop of her. Hayley texted their help to come get and burn the body, wondering when it was that she lost the human part of her that would be disgusted at the loss of an innocent life. Now it was just a necessity, their own survival and safety more important than protecting humans from this supernatural world. Hope was the only thing that mattered anymore after Hayley became a mother.

Klaus had the brothers sit at the leather couch, towering over them with crossed arms. Hayley made herself a drink at the cart, purposefully finishing off Elijah's favorite bourbon. She saw the muscles in his jaw twitch as she licked the taste from her lips.

Klaus stated in his regal tone, “I have a surprise guest for dinner come the weekend. She'll stay for the party of course and I urge each of you to treat her with the utmost respect.”

When he didn't elaborate, Elijah cut in crisply, “and who might be this respectable guest honoring us with her presence?”

“Only the best seer left alive in this world.”

Kol flicked something from his shirt, “how did you convince that old bat to come?”

“I didn't have to. She merely announced she needed to speak with me and I invited her to dinner. For the first time in all of history, I heard true fear in Madam Crisantha's voice. I imagine she'll have better idea than I with what to do with the two of you to avoid such destruction of the supernatural community.”

Elijah cut in again, this time louder. “Isn't it in poor taste to throw a party in the midst of a supernatural crisis? Bringing more into the city rather than spare them of the infection's possible spread?”

“Do you plan on biting anyone?” Klaus asked with a raised brow and sneer. Then, when Elijah said nothing he turned his attention on Kol, “what about you? Plan on taking a bite out of anyone I do not provide for you?”

Silence stretched, and Hayley propped a hand on jutted hip, “well? Are either of you going to answer him or are we going to have to starve you into submission?”

Kol crossed his arms and smirked,“not a bad idea, darling. Except I suppose you haven't been around long enough to have witnessed or experienced the way the right amount of hunger affectsa vampire. We would be worse than the newly turned and have the entire southern United States infected within a week.”

Hayley shrugged and nodded, seemingly rolling the new information around in her head. Then, taking Klaus's hand she murmured, “let's go to bed.”

When he glanced back to shoot his brothers a warning look, the smallest amount of guilt crept in. Perhaps because he knew how hard Elijah was trying to tell him he was compelled. Klaus would let him know he understood when it was time. For now he had better plans, like playing dumb and seeing who tripped over their mistakes come the full moon...

* * *

 

 

His mouth was searing hot, prickly stubble scraping at her chin and cheeks as he placed fervent kisses along her neck. Their hearts pounded wildly and as fast as she was trying to push this, he was moving tortuously slow.

Klaus's fingers left the tangle of her hair in favor of unclasping the too-tight bra, capturing her lower lip with his teeth. She didn't know what exactly it was he was doing to her swollen mouth, but it left her dizzily gripping his taut forearms. She remembered their first time, knowing him only by the stories, this ancient original vampire with a streak of insanity and affinity for mass murder. She wouldn't forget how the realization that he could kill her any moment had made her feel something she hadn't before and hadn't since. It got her off. So not even surprising that it resulted in a magical pregnancy.

His middle finger slipped inside her panties, Hayley's head thumped loudly against the wall.

“Wait...” she whispered, shuddering against his palm. So wet, it was embarrassing. His lips looked swollen and bright red, cheeks flushed and lids heavy over dazed eyes. She kissed him because the feel and taste of him was addicting; he stilled and her body screamed in protest. Hayley knew she was quaking against his hand but it had been a while. Everything felt like it was her first time; new and encompassing. Thick with desire and temptation to let go of logic in favor of release.

Klaus slowly removed his hand from between her legs as she asked shakily, “are you sure we should?”

“Is there something you'd rather do?” Before she had a chance to respond, he took her hand and ran his damp lips along her knuckles. That damn look in his eyes as they stood pressed against one another, burning and aching in...desire, lust, she didn't know...what was a word for that space between a physical attraction and emotional bonding? What else was he but a person she loved like family, she lusted for like a new crush, and...

“What are we even doing?”, Hayley blurted out. She couldn't _do_ this like their first time. They were no longer strangers and there would be no turning back if they crossed any lines. Having sex would affect Hope the most if it didn't work this time. And then they'd lose what they have now. He was friggen a billion years old, so it's not like the same reservations haven't passed his mind too.

Klaus sighed and scooped her up; she smiled when he tossed her on the bed. She landed lightly, the mattress squeaking like a captured mouse. It was fun. It was maybe something she might have enjoyed as a child with a dad. A dad like him.

He stood at the foot of the bed. She yelped in surprise, his fingers around her ankles and jerking her down the disheveled silk sheets.

“Tell me when to stop, I'll go slow...give you time to think...time to explain what it is _you_ believe we are doing,” Klaus suggested. Hayley sucked in her lower lip as he raised her foot, watching him run teeth and tongue along the tips of her toes. “I'm listening,” he added.

How was he even doing that with his tongue? She never got into the feet stuff but there was no way she was stopping the way his searing flesh felt dipping into the arch of her foot.

His kisses moving along her calf smacked wetly, erotically. Swallowing thickly she explained, “I don't want to screw it up and we end up as less than now. That's not fair for Hope...or for us. We've come a long way, you know?”

Bruno's barking and the girl's loud laughter filled the hallway, stilling them just as Klaus's mouth had found it's way to her inner thigh, some inches away from her sodden panties. She could feel his breath cool on the dampness, and she shuddered like she caught a chill.

After silence settled again, Klaus gave her an unapologetic wolfish grin and kissed the jut of her pubic bone. Hayley fought the urge to run. It was more than sex and...well, it scared her. It scared her in a completely non sexually amplifying way.

With his lower lip tickling the burning bundle of nerves between her taut legs, he asked, “can we not keep our familial relationship separated from this...” He trailed off, his suggestive smile dropping into a pensive line.

“See,” Hayley tentatively raked her fingers through his soft curls, “you don't know what to call this either. How do we know we aren't just reacting to the insane amount of pain and stress of Elijah and Hope?” His hair felt exactly like the fuzzy ringlets Hayley would brush through to calm Hope's night terrors.

“So what if we are. I fail to see why that should mean anything.” Klaus breathed her in deeply and let out a gravelly moan. It was then that she knew her control was slipping. She wanted this, even if they could never figure out what 'this' was.

She sat up and tugged off her dress, the cool air pricking her nipples as the sharp sound of her panties being ripped into two filled the room. Hayley bit her lip and peered down at him eyeing her exposed dampness. With one palm firmly to her belly, he pushed her back into the mattress and she gasped.

These unexplored sides excited her, he so did not go down on her when they made Hope. Everything had been rushed and thick with desire. He knew how to get her off. When he had finally let go after making her scream out twice, he had gripped her thighs so hard it took a full day for the bruises to heal.

“Has anyone ever told you, you have a beautiful vagina?”

She let out a laugh, “no, I don't think guys my age talk like that.”

“Then I shall be the first to tell you that every inch of you is exquisite. The most beautiful queen of all time.” The way his accent caressed his words made it seem less cheesy, but still too cheesy for her to take it seriously.

Hayley rolled her eyes and replied through a smile, “Klaus.” He hummed in response, his eyes way too probing down there. She felt kind of weird being looked at so closely, never one to consider a vagina beautiful. “Stop talking.”

He took in her scent almost obnoxiously; she arched her lower back reflexively when he flattened his tongue over her folds. She wriggled and jerked as she built up, his palm resting atop her thumping belly, his thumb working lazy circles in the small tuft of pubic hair.

Hayley's voice was unsteady like a ripple across water. He stilled when she stared at the fractured lines on the ceiling and said, “no matter what, we stay good to each other as co parents. Promise me.”

Without a word, he stood, wiping his chin with the back of a hand. His lips glistened with her; her insides on fire for him. The bed creaked under his weight, faint cigar smoke carried into the room from the cracked french doors. Memories of Elijah seeped in as Klaus positioned over her, it felt like a permanent goodbye. It felt like a bittersweet release.

He set the pace slow, their foreheads pressed as she adjusted to the way he feels once inside of her. Their first time was ravenous, all those years ago. He'd fucked like a lion. Like a king. It had been exactly what she liked and needed. They had broken things the first time, tumbling onto a table and throwing her onto his mattress with force, biting and roughly moving her into different positions. He hadn't kissed her except to bite at her lips and invade her mouth with his tongue and when she came he barely let her finish before sliding out of her and rolling to his back.

She looked up when she realized he was actually looking at her this time. Instead of pushing inside in that way that had made her cry out the first time, he was gentle and slow. Really strangely slow. It felt amazing, like when her body was touched in these ways for the first time, warm and burning and building... It surprised the hell out of her.

“Is this okay?” he asked tentatively, keeping a tantalizingly tempo that curled her toes. This was completely opposite of what he'd been like years ago. There had been no level of intimate conversation or gestures. She couldn't even remember looking into his eyes. This time, oddly enough, she was far more terrified of this version of him. This gentle and kind and...loving way he was touching her. This was really happening.

Hayley hummed a response, her skin tingling and radiating with freshly fed blood and a desire for this man. This father of her child and...he was her family. She loved him but in all these different ways.

He filled her deliciously with each fluid roll of his hips and all she could think about was how she'd fall for him and it would all go to shit. It would. And then all that love she had for the father in him and the friend...they could mess that up with hurt feelings. You didn't have to be over a thousand years old to understand the deep pain only those you love can inflict. It was the sort of thing many never come back from, losing not only the romantic relationship but everything that had built up to that point. Neither of them were the type to be able to come back from such pain. He held grudges and she built walls against such things.

Like a light turning off, the remaining candle finally died, his room swallowed in darkness before her eyes quickly adjusted. She grabbed a fistful of sheets and bit her lip, neck arching towards the scrape of his rough chin. He nipped at the bones in her throat, changing the angle inside of her. The bed creaked with his movements, but she barely noticed over the way their heavy breaths and intermittent moans filled the room. It was like she was on autopilot, her body reveling in the attention being paid to it. Hayley wasn't one to be still and quiet, and slow had never been her style. Yet, she was thrumming and embarrassing sounds escaped her every breath and god, she felt so fucking _much_.

Klaus's eyes after he lifted up to peer down caused her pause. She blinked away, choosing to avoid the intimacy of what she read in his expression in favor of watching the way their bodies looked together. He was propped so that she could see every ripple of his abdomen as they moved in a rhythm she was growing to enjoy, no matter how exaggerated and slow.

He, grabbed her chin, propped up on one arm as he continued to bring her closer and closer with each slick motion. She understood what he was trying to do. He wanted her to look him in the eye as he brought her to climax. The wolf in him needed it from her -that bond.

Hayley watched the way his pupils enlarged and how his entire face changed as he watched her let go beneath him. He squeezed her jaw when her eyes fluttered shut, reminding her of what he wanted. She gave in, riding out the intensely deep and slow release that left her trembling and staring almost wondrously up at his piercing gaze. And just like that, as she watched him empty inside of her with a roaring passion, Hayley knew this was different. This bond was not to be broken.

“Promise me something,” he murmured on his back into the silent night, his chest still heaving from exertion. His fingers were pulling through her tangled and damp hair, the other hand laying warmly on the thigh she'd tossed over his legs.

She breathed him in, the scent of his sweaty skin reminding her of the way Hope smelled after a day playing outside. It took Hayley a while to warm up to her lovers, hesitant about opening up too far too fast. But, she kissed his salty throat, tongue pressing over the tantalizing thrum of his pulse. She ran her nails lightly over the sparse chest hair, relaxing heavily against his familiar body. Far more familiar than she thought he'd ever become to her.

“Okay,” she whispered, knowing he wouldn't ask anything unattainable of her.

“Never fear me.” The way he said it stabbed her heart and closed her throat. She pushed up from his chest to peer down at his solemn face.

Maybe he was thinking about the time he grabbed her by the throat when she was pregnant, or forced her into wolf form while he raised Hope without her. Maybe he was thinking of all the horrific things he's done to the thousands he's loved before her. Hayley didn't know what prompted the topic, she only knew that he didn't scare her. Her wolf only urged her to stand her ground and fight for his. It had been that way since the day she found out she carried his child.

“I will love you fearlessly or not at all,” she murmured, running a finger along his damp hairline, “promise me the same?”

He nodded like a child, eyes wide with sincerity and mouth pursed against emotion. They never said the words, but as Hayley drifted to sleep in his arms, she decided to let it all in and settle warmly. She loved him, and there was no question. He loved her too.

* * *

 

“You do realize how much shit we're about to be in?” Kol asked, gulping his drink. Gesturing angrily, “only our brother is mad enough to throw a dinner party in the midst of a crisis.”

Elijah uncrossed his legs, replying dully, “I'm compelled, not dense.”

Kol sunk further in the balcony chair, eyes on Niklaus's window. Elijah lit another cigar. He found he craved them tremendously lately, knowing full well his other self indulged at a ridiculous pace each full moon.

Shadows appeared in Niklaus's room, illuminated by the flicker of candles. Elijah exhaled a cloud of smoke, glancing towards Kol as he spoke.

His brother's familiar fox-like tone rang in his ears, “while that might be true, you are dense if you believe Nik won't have both our hearts daggered and bodies stuffed in boxes. The only reason he hasn't yet is because he's trying to figure out how to get our sisters back and how to properly punish you for sticking your hands in a young little cookie jar.”

“Do stop,” Elijah pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking away the images. His other self devouring Hope like she was a piece of candy rather than his niece. His own flesh and blood. Anger boiled again, knowing Niklaus understood his reference to the 1600's. He had to understand that Elijah was compelled and to keep trying or something terrible would surely happen.

Kol crunched a piece of ice from the glass between his teeth, mumbling, “whatever plans you're coming up with. They won't work. Esther is involved. She's making plays herself, so you know it won't go in your favor.”

Elijah tried to fight the compulsion enough to reply, but nothing came. Just more inner turmoil at the prospect of his body being controlled by someone within. Every full moon plays were being made towards a goal a lot of people didn't want Elijah knowing anything about. Elijah _had_ to make it known to Hayley and Niklaus that he wasn't to be trusted on full moons. This proved to be quite the problem considering he would not be the one in control during the dinner party. If he were not compelled he'd ask for help with the matter, but he could never get out any of the words he so desperately wanted to speak.

No matter what Madam Crisantha sees for the future, it was imperative she give away the truth of his dual identities before it was too late.

“Perhaps rotting in a box is precisely where you and I need to be,” Elijah murmured when the light flickered out.

Kol shot him a glower, and then a slow smile spread. “Goodness me. Sounds like our brother is receiving quite the homecoming.”

The look Elijah gave in reply ended the conversation before it began, his younger brother directing his attention towards another end of their old home. Elijah recognized Ada immediately, leaning on the railing and peering down at the street below. Hope joined her soon after, her night shirt barely reaching her thighs.

Even from his distant position at his own apartments, he could see the signs of crying and stress all over his niece's face. She must have filled her friend in.

Elijah hoped young Miss Ada was the sort of friend who couldn't keep secrets.

* * *

 

He kissed her like he'd never see her again in the days that led to the full moon dinner party. The morning after they had made love for the first time since making Hope, it all felt so surreal. He'd been watching her sleep, a look on his face she'd never seen before. It wasn't some cheesy love look or anything, it was just different. It must be the way he looked at someone he cared for romantically and she wasn't sure she liked the intensity of it all. Maybe this was just what it was to fall for someone you already loved.

Klaus was waiting in the car for her now, she had agreed to let him take her dress shopping for the party. With Ada and Hope raiding Rebekah's collection, that left Hayley with her very tiny selection of formal wear.

“No,” he immediately said, shaking his head when she stepped out in her one and only dress.

Hayley rolled her eyes, “what, why? It's a normal dress, I'll blend right in.”

“The Queen of New Orleans is not supposed to blend in like the floral arrangements. She is to steal the show.”

Hayley had blanched at that, replying, “you're such a snob.” She watched him smile and figured a new gown wouldn't kill her. The dumb fatherless girl in her wanted to please him anyway. There really was nothing quite like Klaus's appreciating eyes on her, he had a weird way of making her feel like she wanted to stay that important to him forever. If a dress made him that damn happy, why not?

She pulled her hair back into a ponytail as she exited the compound, slipping into the town car aside him. He had opted for a compelled driver, which was out of the norm, but a few minutes into the trip and she had figured out why.

“You're worse than a teenage boy,” Hayley mumbled against his cool lips. He tasted like scotch and smelled like the inside of a jazz club. He must have met with Elijah again, the cigar smell spiced and sweet on the lapels of Klaus's coat.

“Do you wish for me to stop?” He pulled away so that his lips hovered at her cheekbone, his warm knuckles brushing along the length of her neck.

Biting her lip and staring almost cross-eyed up at his probing gaze she jerked her head, “not really...”

The remainder of the car ride was spent with his lips caressing her skin while her eyes drifted closed. It was crazy how much she melted and relaxed under his touch. Klaus...of all people. Hayley wondered if the grief of their situation had rendered them completely insane and this would all wear off once everything settled. What was it that Elijah used to say? _You won't enjoy a second of life if all you do is wait for the bottom to fall out on you._ He was usually right about things. She owed it to herself to enjoy the good parts without fearing the bad. She _had_ promised to love fearlessly and she was sure this was included.

Klaus's lips, both rough and soft, halted near her ear. She shivered as he whispered.

“What goes on up in there all the time, Little Wolf?” He tapped her temple lightly. She really was spacey lately. Too many things to worry about and never enough time or energy to solve them all at once.

Maybe there was something more than slight unease at the physical and emotional turn their relationship had made. Maybe it was simply that her intuition knew he was on an entirely different level than herself with the way he understood Elijah's situation. While she had laid in bed crying over Hope, he was out there making moves and working the problem. Her parental worry was consuming and it really kind of pissed her off that she wasn't in the action and getting things done.

Hayley decided that if she didn't ask, she'd never know. “What is going on with this Madam Crisantha? How do you all know her?”

The car hit a pot hole and her nose jabbed into the underside of his chin. A fresh waft of old cigar smoke reminded her that he'd been in contact with Elijah and he hadn't even told her about it. Did he think she was too slow to pick up on all these details? Did he think she was too young to grasp the plays he was making? Or was he up to something she wouldn't agree with?

His hand dropped from its resting place at her shoulder. “She's a seer, love.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, fingertip bumping the row of earrings. “The best there is, and has provided our family with years of service when it comes to visions that affect us greatly. Her lineage became known to us in the late seventeen hundreds when her ancestor sought out Rebekah with a message of impending danger. Since then, we've traded protection and a well off life for her family, including the Madam Crisantha. Many have studied under her to strengthen their sight.”

Hayley slid towards the door as the towncar parked outside the towering building. He was taking her to be fitted by some designer she'd never heard of. “You think she has seen what happens with the infection?”

He followed her out of the car and into the brisk morning air. Falling into step alongside her, he replied, “I know she has. And she has refused to utter a word of it, as it constantly changes. She tells me Hope's final decision concerning a delicate matter will be prompted soon and she cannot see the truth until this happens.”

Hayley stopped just outside the revolving doors, crossing her arms tightly over her plain white blouse. “Why the hell haven't you filled me in? And why are you going to see Elijah so often?”

He seemed surprised. Good. He'd be better off if he understood she wasn't some simple girl to be underused in a crisis and left out of decision making. The fact he didn't know that yet was pissing her off if she was honest.

“You seem...on edge as of late. This part I can do, I can handle. It's our daughter that I have no idea how to help, yet you do. And I trust you completely to know what's best for her. I suppose I was mistaken in thinking you were comfortable with the roles we've taken in this situation?”

“I can handle a more proactive role, Klaus. Hope is difficult, but there's a lot more I can be doing if I knew what it was you are up to.”

Klaus moved around her, tugging her along by a loose grip around her fingers. The revolving door ushered them inside the fragrant lobby. Once in the elevator, he murmured, “I know that Elijah is compelled. I've been working with him to figure out a way to communicate about what it is he's compelled against. We've tried reversing the compulsion but I'm running low on witches powerful and willing enough to untangle the tightly bound knots. Ada's father's specialty was developing potions. Specifically for undoing compulsion.”

Hayley watched the numbers crawl towards the tenth floor, doors dinging open. “So that's why you really brought her here?”

“I brought her here for Hope. The rest is merely a stroke of luck.” Then Klaus turned and greeted the elegant woman seated behind a mahogany circular desk with a charming smile. The woman immediately scrambled to pick up the phone, jabbing buttons. Then, just as quickly, she stated brightly, “go right in, Mr. Mikaelson. He's picked out several that fit your requirements.”

Hayley suppressed a huff. Trailing behind him, they entered a huge and bright room lined with mirrors and racks of gowns. She really hoped the first one she tried on would do the trick. Whatever personality thread that caused girls to go insane over dressing up was undeniably left out of Hayley's fabric.

Standing up on a small platform surrounded by tall mirrors, her eyes followed Klaus's steps around the room, his fingers plucking two gowns to hold up to her. She reminded him after shaking her head to both options, “Ada won't help unless Hope wants her to. As much as they have fought, they are loyal like sisters.”

He called over his shoulder as the hangers scraped on the rack, “that's precisely why Ada needs to understand the severity of the situation. Elijah thinks if he speaks with her and shows her what his bite can do, perhaps the young girl will be willing to help no matter how Hope feels about it. If Ada is able to undo the compulsion, we will know exactly what it is everyone is trying to protect.”

She liked the black one he held up. Nodding she added, “or keep from us.”

“Yes, love. Or that.”

He sat on the plush couch nearby, watching as she shed her blouse and jeans. Wiggling into the tight fabric, she immediately appreciated this designer's eye for the female form. Backless and tight in all the right places, Hayley surveyed her body from different angles in the mirrors.

“That's the one,” Klaus called, accepting a flute of champagne from a young man who walked with purpose around the room with a headset. “I'm fully aroused,” Klaus added smiling over the rim of the bubbling drink.

She rolled her eyes and tilted her head to peer at him in the mirror, knowing her ass looked pretty damn good all snuggled in the shimmering dark dress. “Me too,” she joked lightly.

He smiled and continued, “this party will be like a buffet of knowledge. I will need your eyes and ears because my attention will be solely on Elijah. From my talks with him, it seems his compulsion keeps him extremely tight lipped on the subject of the full moon. This leads me to believe something significant will occur. A decision is to be made, and only then will Madam Crisantha reveal to us what the future holds.”

“There's nothing quite like a Mikaelson party.” Then turning, she beckoned for him to join her. He obeyed, a playful glint in his eyes. She wrapped her arms around him and whispered near the soft skin of his earlobe, “lock the door and lets finish what you started in the ride over.”

“Oh, sweetheart. You've read my mind.”

 

* * *

 

The table looked like it would cave from the amount of food piled from end to end. Hope wondered if her father would ever remember her dietary needs required zero animal products. She scrunched her nose at the sight of the large pig, an apple stuffed in his mouth. At least the salad and fruit selection was killer.

“Kol, I was so sorry to hear of dear Davina's passing. Her work on the Kelsing Grimoires were unparalleled and will help the magical community for centuries to come.”

Hope could feel his irritation from across the table, her eyes flicking between his and her father's reactions. Davina was a sore topic obviously and Uncle Kol was already three bourbons in to the night. She was glad she settled on a strapless two piece gown for the evening because she was sweating like a pig from stress and anxiety. She glanced at the roasted pig again, trying to ignore the way the animal's frightened energy still stuck to the air around it.

“What I find strange is that nobody saw it coming,” Kol replied pointedly.

Madam Crisantha placed an old wrinkly hand on his. “If I had known, I assure you I would have taken measures to prevent the tragedy. It was only after, that I received my first vision.”

He yanked his hand away and busied himself with sawing away at the pile of meat on his plate. Hope sneaked a look towards Elijah, who was passing for Uncle Elijah with flying colors. Uncle Kol had worked with him in the hours before the dinner began, drilling as many past memories and topics that may come up as possible. So far, her father had appeared distant and uninterested in speaking to Elijah at all. It was a relief, but Hope couldn't help but worry that they'd be found out and all would be revealed. Uncle Kol had grabbed her arm before she descended the stairs for dinner, whispering quickly that Madam Crisantha wouldn't be able to see the future if Hope didn't make a definitive decision about conceiving her son. She hadn't had time to ask if it was better she decided or didn't decide. A part of her really believed her parents would forgive her for wanting to bring her child that she'd already met into this world.

All night she lay awake thinking of his sweet face and the way he reached for her. She poured through old writings on the topic of unborn souls and what happens to them. There wasn't much, but she had found a passage in Esther's grimoir about a viking afterlife. A realm where the unborn and their relatives waited to be crossed over into the living or into Valhalla. The unborn were meant to live, but sometimes they got stuck and suffered until they passed into a land for souls never given a mortal life. The thought of her Henrik suffering made her sick.

“Hope,” Madam Crisantha directed attention towards her, “it is an honor to finally meet you. We are all so eager to see what you've returned to this life to accomplish. I know many who would very much love to explore your triple goddess abilities. There hasn't been one in quite some time, and little was recorded of their work.”

She hated all the eyes settling on her. Like she was supposed to say something to keep the conversation going, to charm and schmooze as well as her father. But she wasn't good at that kind of stuff. Instead, Hope turned the conversation away from herself.

“That is an interesting necklace, Madam, what stone is that?” Hope shoved in a bite of pommes dauphine and chewed slowly, relief washing over her as all eyes shifted towards Madam's response.

Her gnarled fingers played with the stone dangling from a long silvery chain, her smile tight as she responded, “it was my mother's. The power of sight is so strong within our line because of this stone.”

“I've been protecting that stone for your family since I can remember,” Klaus spoke up, elbows propped on the table and fingers laced together in a loose clasp.

“Why's that?” Hope asked after washing down her swallow with a gulp of wine. She had a feeling the protection was more for his benefit than for the woman. Maybe that was how he ensured the old lady stayed loyal to the Mikaelsons rather than using her abilities to take down the family.

“My family, all of them, they reside inside of the stone so that I may draw on them and their link into all time. It is the way I can see what cannot yet be seen.”

Her dad added, “anyone with a touch of sight magic in their blood can wear it and use the power as well. It is highly sought after.”

“Yes, Niklaus.” Madam smiled demurely, “and you've done a marvelous job.”

Hope looked at her in surprise, noting her mother did the same. Not many people got to call her father by his full first name. It made her wonder just how well they knew each other.

“It's pretty,” Hope offered, not sure what else to say.

Silverware and glasses clinked while silence settled and focus shifted towards their meal. Hope caught Ada's eye over the pile of dinner rolls. Her friend smiled around her fork reassuringly and Hope couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked in the stunning red gown. Her raven hair tumbled over her ivory shoulders in loose curls, green eyes lined in sharp cat-like black strokes. Hope had done her make up, something she really enjoyed and something she was rather good at. Even Uncle Kol had taken a double take when the girls entered the dining room.

“The courtyard looks magnificent, Niklaus. You've really outdone yourself yet again. And all without Rebekah's hand involved. I'm impressed. Did I hear Miranda Gladstone is attending?”

This Madam lady sure was chatty. Hope wondered how much longer they had to sit here with this nauseating pig staring sadly over the ruby apple.

Klaus gestured with his hands, “unfortunately she declined invitation. She's lost quite a few in Germany since the infection spread and has confined herself to the North Frisian Islands.”

Hope about choked on her wine when Madam Crisantha turned her attention towards Elijah, asking him, “and you, dear Elijah. You haven't written since...oh when was that...” She tapped her chin thoughtfully.

“It was quite some time ago, I'm sure. I do apologize for the lack of communication. As you know, family affairs are quite consuming.”

“Yes,” she nodded solemnly, grasping her necklace tightly in a trembling grip. “I saw what your family has had to sacrifice in order to free this world of Inadu. I understand how trying that situation had to have been, but know that the community appreciates the ridding of that evil entity.”

Hope froze when Elijah let out a small chuckle. He was going to get himself caught, she knew it. He couldn't be the slightest bit out of character or her dad would sniff him out like a hungry wolf. She had to watch her own reactions too, because she swore her mom had barely taken her eyes off of Hope's every move tonight.

“Something amuses you, brother?” Klaus quipped, fingers clasping tighter.

Elijah seamlessly replied, “I suppose I share Kol's sentiments. Surly if she had seen any number of these grievances in time, we could still refer to her as the world's greatest seer. Surly, Niklaus,” he spoke his name pointedly, “Madam could have notified us before now, before this infection seems to have become a nuisance in her supposed visions of our future.”

“I have always remained loyal to Niklaus and I came to him the moment I knew something. That only means that all of these other events were completely unavoidable, yet entangled with the larger vision. I will come to know of the end to this story before the end of the night, you can rely on that.”

Hope shifted uncomfortably in her seat, accidentally dropping her fork with a clatter to the expensive china. She mumbled an apology and excused herself, the sight of the pig making her want to hurl and the dinner conversation making her want to curl up in a ball to wait for the storm to pass. As soon as she shut the door to the bathroom, it opened again.

“What the hell are you doing?” Kol asked her, words thick with alcohol.

“Privacy would be nice,” she mumbled, grasping the counter top to steady herself. If she puked, it would so not be a surprise. Her anxiety was raging full force, leaving her drenched in sweat and dizzily searching for relief.

Kol gently swept her hair from the back of her neck to place a towel he dampened with sink water, blowing lightly at her flaming skin. “Your pretty friend has managed to steal the show for a moment while I slipped out to remind you, dear niece, that you need to play your part convincingly. Don't make your decision about you know what until you're alone with her, got it?”

Hope wondered how someone could behave so kindly and ease her physical anxiety while speaking to her so abrasively. That's sort of how they all were with her and with each other. Almost like their disdain was as strong as their love.

She nodded, “got it. I'm sorry.”

His face softened, “well there's nothing to apologize for, silly girl. I'm only trying to save my own ass and possibly my wife's. Play it cool and play it smart and we can outfox any one of them.”

Hope wasn't sure his words did more than convince her she was so going to pay for not including her parents from day one. There wasn't much of a choice though. She had to get through tonight and get a moment alone with Elijah to ask him about Henry. She hadn't told Ada that part yet, didn't want to get her hopes up. If Henry was really alive, then Hope owed it to her best friend to do everything she could to reunite him. Not to mention, the prospect of seeing his smile once more...it was jarringly desperate this need for him.

She got just the opportunity once dinner was over and her parents hovered near the entrance to the courtyard, greeting the less important guests. The Mikaelson's invitations indicated specific times for certain classes of people: the most important arriving last to a populous party in full swing. This gave Hope roughly thirty minutes to talk to Elijah and to confront Madam Crisantha without her parent's prying eyes and ears.

Hope spotted Elijah watching the party from above, elbows propped on the banister and a drink poised elegantly by the stem. She climbed the stairs as quickly as her stiletto Louboutin's would allow, grabbing his arm and tugging him into the study. The door locked loudly behind her, the beat of music drifting from the party muffled by the thick wood.

Spinning around she launched into, “I need to know about Henry. Why do you want the dagger?”

He looked amused, his drink placed gently to the desk. She noticed his eyes flick down the length of her and she felt an unexpected warmth creep up her neck. He really did have an intense way about him, it was something she didn't pick up on when he was Uncle Elijah.

“You look stunning tonight,” he said through a small grin, head cocked and finger rubbing absently along his chin.

Hope glanced down at the gown, wanting to ignore the pleasurable feeling of being complimented by someone like him. But she couldn't. Truth was, she liked that when they girls walked into dinner earlier, it was she who caught his eye, not Ada. Her black two piece gown was muted and simple compared to the extravagance of crimson flowing fabric on her tall and toned best friend. But the way he looked at her for that split second before he corrected himself...

“Thanks,” she muttered, averting her eyes. She poured herself a drink at the cart, sipping it eagerly while he watched from his perched position on the corner of the desk.

Sucking in a slight breath, he replied softly, “I am of the belief that if we have more opportune and frequent times to...be alone together, our chances of conceiving a child will significantly increase.”

Hope knit her brows and crossed her arms, fidgeting with the side zipper of the jewel adorned top. She wasn't sure how to feel. _I mean, fuck_ , Hope inwardly said.

She walked closer to him so that she could hear the rest. His voice was almost too whisper soft to hear over the thrum of base outside the door.

“With the dagger, you and Vincent could channel the link with the full moon and switch our places. He would be banished to the full moons, while I get to maintain sole control the rest of the time.” Elijah pushed off the desk and stood close, so close that her breasts brushed the fabric of his shirt. “The extra time would serve our cause tremendously.”

 _Our cause_ , like it was some sort of mutual project they were passionate about. But Hope wasn't sure this was the right thing to do. The desire to tell her mom everything was overwhelming. It would be an easy decision if it were not for the fact that she had already met her son. Knowing what he would look like and sound like...how he looked just like her dad when he grinned... Not so easy.

“What's in it for you anyway?”

“Edith was a seer too as you'll remember. I trust in her vision. I trust she was more powerful and respectable than this Madam Crisantha could ever hope to be. Her vision was the final vision and in it, I had a child. As a vampire, I cannot conceive. But your abilities as the triple goddess are...extraordinary. Our child's blood will save so many people we love or may come to love. This was Edith's wish, and so it is mine.”

Before Hope could respond, or even react to his palm resting warmly on her lower back, the door rattled. Hope jumped back and asked shakily, “who's there?”

“We have not much time,” Madam Crisantha called out. And once Hope opened and closed the door with her magic, Madam continued breathlessly, “your decision, child. I need it to complete the final vision.”

Hope felt her heart pound ruthlessly, a roaring in her ears. Dizzily she maneuvered around them to sit on the arm of her father's wing backed chair. Elijah appealed to her once more, moving to kneel before her and take her damp hands in his cool grasp.

“The child returning would release your aunts from their magical hold in that realm and we could save the community. I will return Henry to you unharmed. I only need you to say yes and to give me the dagger.”

She peered into his dark eyes. So familiar and odd at the same time. She felt herself nodding.

“Good,” he whispered, nodding back. Then glancing behind him he stood and motioned for Madam Crisantha.

“Go ahead,” the old woman croaked, offering a wrist to both of them. Hope rarely used them, but it felt like she had practiced so often she knew exactly what to do. Her fangs pushed into the papery skin, thin bitter blood flooding her mouth. She nearly gagged, still not quite the vampire that everyone else seemed to be.

And just like that she was assaulted with a montage of events. It began at the end with the cure circulating infected communities and worked its way backwards to the unsettling image of Madam Crisantha's heart grasped in Elijah's dripping fist after she threatens to tell Klaus the truth about his identity.

When they unlatched in loud gasps, Elijah exchanged a look with Hope. In that one second, Hope understood what he was about to do. They couldn't let Madam warn Hope's father. The images of her son's face when he's born and the sound of his laughter when she teaches him to skip rocks kept her warm while Elijah's hand crashed into Madam's chest. The splatter of blood carried a sickening coppery scent, causing Hope to gag and squeeze her eyes shut.

“The dagger. I need it quickly.”

Hope nodded and fled from the room.

 

* * *

 

Elijah slumped further into his chair, his throat raw and eyes swollen with grief.

“Please Niklaus, I am telling you the truth. You must believe me,” he pleaded one last time.

“Read this aloud. Then tell me who I should believe. You _impostor_!” Niklaus slammed a piece of parchment to the table, nearly taking Elijah's nose off.

In a hoarse voice he choked out the first line of an elegantly hand written letter. “Dear Niklaus, I knew this evening would be my last, but I leave you with my final vision. In doing so, I wish for you to remember that I remained loyal even in death and that it would be in your family's best interests if you were to transfer me to the stone. Your daughter's abilities would make this a simple task.”

Looking up he asked, “what has happened?” When Niklaus ignored his inquiry, he glanced pleadingly towards Hayley. She averted her eyes, something painful and wounded within them.

“Keep reading,” Niklaus barked.

Elijah swallowed hard and continued, “the infection spreads and many fall ill, including you my dear Niklaus. The only way to save the afflicted is to allow Hope and...” He broke off and dropped the letter. It floated almost tauntingly to the floor. His veins felt like ice. His throat like fire.

Niklaus snatched it and continued reading for him, loudly like an enraged lion, “-To allow Hope and Elijah to conceive a child. My knowledge of Elijah's memory-less identity controlling his body every full moon is the cause of my death. His wish is to bring the vision to fruition to honor my protege, Edith. If you stop the union and the child is not born, I do not know what the final vision would then be. I only remain loyal to you, my once dearest lover, and to your family. The decision should be yours. Faithfully, Madam Crisantha.”

Elijah buried his face in his hands, rubbing furiously before staring them both in the eyes as deeply as he could. With all his heart, he tried again.

“I'm not him, that's all I can manage to say. Please. I'm me.” He stood and grasped Hayley's hands, “it's me”. She jerked away from him and stumbled backwards, eyes flashing angry gold.

“Lock him up and we'll talk to Elijah tomorrow,” she muttered.

It would be another month before Elijah could plead with them again. Another month that someone was in control of his body and intentions. A month to conceive a child with his niece.

He had never felt so hopeless.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

Song Rec: _Lost_ by Phelian

 

* * *

 

 

“Dad...?” Hope tentatively called from the doorway to his study. He was hunched over with pen in hand, scribbling furiously and muttering to himself. There's an empty bottle and a mug of blood set next to his parchment, the familiar scent of copper and spiced bourbon permeating the room. He didn't even look up to acknowledge her, so she approached slowly, twisting her hands together in a nervousness impossible to hide.

She halted in front of the large desk, his pen froze and he raised only his eyes, giving him an almost menacing expression. Hope's mom had talked to her about what Madam Crisantha's letter said. Choosing to pretend she had no idea about the conception plan, Hope lied and feigned shock and disgust. Her mom grilled her for at least an hour, but Hope refused to change her story, not once getting tripped up by the assault of questions and accusations.

“What is it?” Klaus asked, his voice weary and posture rigid.

Dropping into the chair across from him, she replied softly, “did you give your blood to Henry for that gash in his head after your altercation at the bar?”

“I arranged something like that, yes. I sent some with Ada after I heard he had gotten stitches.”

“So you knew when you killed him that he might survive it? That he might become a vampire?”

“How was I to know if he drank the blood or not...” He set the pen down firmly, leaning back in the chair. “Why?”

Hope stared at a spot on her jeans, scraping at it with her nail. She could tell her dad was too upset to talk right now. She pushed gently, “Elijah told me he was alive. The other Elijah told me, I mean. The one who isn't my uncle.” Her eyes flicked up, reading his reaction.

“Ah,” he hummed, “and you wish to venture to the dungeon to speak with him on Henry's whereabouts.” Through a tight and flat tone, he replied, “no.”

Hope grit her teeth. She knew the Elijah being caged right now was actually her uncle pleading for someone to believe him. The guilt was intense and she needed to assure him that this was for the best. She also needed to magically invade his mind to retrieve his memories so that this memory-less version of himself that she was to conceive with would be able to pass off as her uncle for a month.

“Please,” she tried to make her voice sound more vulnerable than she was feeling. Right now all she wanted to do was blast through the dungeon with her magic and get things done. Using the Henry situation was her only in that wouldn't piss her dad off further. “It would mean so much to Ada. If he's alive out there then she could have her father back.”

“And you would have your adult lover back. I think not,” he clipped, pushing away from the desk to stand. He had a way of making people feel small with tone and stature. Hope found herself mimicking his methods when she needed to get her way.

Using her magic, she shoved her father back into his seat. The surprise on his face was almost comical, but it quickly transformed into rage.

“Let me go this instant,” he seethed, gripping the edge of the desk.

Hope remained calm, pushing him further into the chair with little exertion and standing to tower over him. “Let me talk to him, he might tell me where Henry is. You owe Ada this much for killing her father.”

He said nothing, just struggled against her magical hold. Minutes passed and Hope let out a little huffed sigh.

“I can do this as long as it takes,” she reminded him, tapping her foot impatiently. Glancing at the clicking clock on the shelf behind her, she noted only one more hour until sunrise and she loses Uncle Elijah for a month.

A smile crept over his otherwise pissed off features, “in an hour he will be himself again anyway. I've endured much more trying passing of time in my lifetimes, dear daughter. Do what you will, but my answer is no.”

“Why?” she asked, an angry flush creeping up her neck.

“Your mother filled you in, surely. You are never to be near that man again.”

“We can't make a baby through iron bars,” she reminded him, shifting on her feet and glancing again at the clock. “I need to do this for Ada, it's the right thing to do. I will only speak to him of Henry, I only need this remaining hour to pry it out of him.”

He cocked his head, the only part of him that could still move under her hold. “There's something not quite adding up, you see.”

Hope felt her heart thump heavily.

He narrowed his eyes, “why would that impostor have allowed Henry to complete the transition and then held on to him, bringing him up now? What is in it for him?”

“I don't know,” she lied, swallowing noisily “leverage of some sort in case something like this happens? He's caught so maybe he's trying to gain favor with me. It's not like you and mom are being especially receptive to his pleas, his luck likes with me.”

A long silence settled between them, until finally Klaus breathed out slowly to respond, “you may ask about Henry's whereabouts but I am to stand within earshot and you are not to make any deals.”

Hope nodded, knowing it was time to involve Ada. They'd need one hell of a distraction if Hope was to speak with Uncle Elijah completely alone. Couldn't have anyone figure out that Elijah's identities had been flipped with the use of the full moon and dagger... A dagger her father would very likely confiscate if he knew what it was used for.

 

* * *

 

 

Klaus surveyed the young girl with mild interest. “I no longer see the need for your potions, I understand now why he was compelled. Thank you for the offer, now if you'll excuse me...”

Ada blocked his way; he nearly lost his temper. Narrowing his eyes, Klaus stated firmly, “I need to accompany Hope, she's been with him for far too long. Do move out of the way or I will be forced to move you myself.”

The girl's lips, heavily coated in ruby gloss, trembled so slightly he barely caught it. She was nervous and thought she hid it well beneath the hardened look of determination.

She spoke while smoothing the front of her frayed skirt, the smell of her leather jacket covering up something he recognized as anxiety. “I need to talk to you about Hope. I'm afraid this is the only chance we'll get without her listening in.”

This gave him pause. Ada certainly looked concerned, and if anyone knew what was truly going on with his daughter, it would be her. Giving in he gestured for her to join him on the old couch. He watched her approach and lower herself near him, her long dark hair braided over a shoulder and eyes painted with thick black swipes of liner. She was certainly a beauty, reminding him of the painting _Bildnis einer jungen Frau_ he'd bought off of the German artist in the early twenties. He'd been drunk and found the girl's hair and expression intriguing. And beautiful.

She crossed and uncrossed her legs several times, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt that looked like she cut and sewed from an old pair of black denim.

“So...Hope might be having one of her weird episodes and I'm worried because she seems to think people are spying on her. Like putting cameras up around the house or lurking in the shadows when we go out places.”

Klaus raised his brows, a smile tugging in amusement. “That seems perfectly normal to me. If I were her, I'd be certain of it. How else can one spy on the most powerful witch in the world without the use of modern technology?”

Ada's painted lips parted and he could smell the sweet hint of fresh sweat beading across the surface of her skin. He listened to her heart. She was increasingly nervous. Why? Perhaps he _should_ be spying on them.

Standing, he stated, “thank you for bringing your concerns to me, but if that will be all?” He began to take steps towards the door, hand scooping up the decanter. He was itching to activate his vampiric speed to join Hope and the impostor.

Ada stood quickly, wrist full of clanking bracelets as she blurted out, “drugs! She's on drugs.”

Klaus curled his fingers tightly into both palms, “ _what_?”

He turns to stalk out of the room, anger boiling at himself more than anything. Why could he not keep his daughter safe and happy? Why was he putting everything he had into loving his daughter and still failed?

Ada blocked him yet again, and this time it wasn't words she halted him with. His brows shot up and a moment of shock hit him like a slap. Her lips tasted like cherries and her body warmly soft against his.

Grabbing her by the neck, he pushed her away and against the wall.

“ _What_ is it you think you are doing?” He would not be manipulated in such a way.

Her eyes bulged and she struggled to reply, her thrashing about brining a picture frame off the wall. He released his grip, kicking away the shards of glass and bringing his clenched teeth close to her quivering mouth. She touched her neck, now red with marks. He wasn't sorry. She was stalling him and that was the best she could do.

With tears shining angrily in her eyes she uttered hoarsely, “she asked me to buy her some time. She just wanted to talk to him alone. So that he'd be honest.”

He touched her shoulder and stated gently, but not without his own anger, “I appreciate your dedication to my daughter. But don't ever do something like that again. Are we clear?”

She nodded, glancing away, a flush dotting her sharp cheekbones.

He turned and flashed away, swiping her lip gloss from his mouth with the back of his clenched hand.

 

* * *

 

 

The air was musty and cold. Uncle Elijah sat in the far corner of his caged area, face frozen in one expression that never changed, not even when she gripped the iron bars and called his name.

“I will make this right,” she whispered.

His voice seemed to come from a gravelly place deep in his chest. With the sternest face she'd ever seen on him, he seethed, “how could you possibly make such a promise, child? What you are doing will destroy him.”

Hope knew he was referring to her father. She knew Uncle Elijah put centuries into taking care of him and that this was painful for her uncle.

Quietly, she reminded him, “dad dies of the infection if we don't make the cure.”

He stuffed his hands into his designer slacks, turning away. “We do not know that for sure.”

“Edith knew, and a part of you believes her.”

Slamming a fist into the rock wall, causing her to jolt, he cut in, “a part of me that is not real! It...sickens me that you have been able to detach so far from the reality of this situation. I do not consent and am incredibly saddened by your choices here, niece.” He shook out his hand, blood droplets smeared on the wall and debris crumbled at his feet. He wouldn't be so angry if he only saw what she saw.

“I met him,” she stammered. “He's beautiful-”

“Stop. Enough. I won't hear any of it.”

Her lips trembled and an ache enveloped her lungs, “please just come closer so I can show you our son. I can show you everything Esther told me. If after you have seen him and you still think this is a bad idea, I'll tell my father the truth about your identities. I'll switch you back. I swear.”

He stood slowly, adjusting his tie and eyeing her warily. He didn't entirely believe her, but she knew as well as he that his choices were limited.

Shuffling closer across the dusty floor, he stopped just out of arms length. Hope bit her lip and pleaded silently with her eyes. This was more than getting him close enough so she could invade his memories and share them with her Elijah. She really did want him to see what he would be giving up and what she was fighting for.

Finally, he closed the gap and let her reach up to place her fingers gently on either side of his head. She pushed with her magic, plucking through the slight resistance he put up at the intrusion.

“Let me in,” she whispered.

Hope conjured up the memories of Henrik and that place he was stuck in, opening a connection and playing it out for Uncle Elijah's racing mind. She showed him everything; the way Henrik's little hand fit in her own, the way his mop of hair brushed into eyes that reminded her of her father's, the sounds of his crying when she left him...

As soon as she felt Uncle Elijah faltering, she caught him off guard, invading his memories with everything she had. He resisted, crying out in pain, but her fingers dug into his skull and she grabbed for everything she could, knowing it would be just as painful to transfer it to her Elijah later.

When she let go, he fell to his knees, sweat pouring from his brow. She'd never seen him look so angry. He was shaking with it.

“Isn't he perfect?” she asked, tears blurring his expression.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hayley slipped out, walking the back streets to Marcel's club. He was willing to meet with her, but on his terms and alone. With Klaus taking over the majority of the legwork, she couldn't sit on the sidelines any longer. Plus, if Madam Crisantha's vision about Klaus becoming infected was true, Hayley knew they needed options outside of Hope's miracle cure baby. There was no way Klaus would agree to it, just as there was no way she was letting him die.

He'd said with a vibration to his voice right as they laid down that night, “I would rather die.” It left her chilled.

Knowing he meant it was enough to put a wedge between what had been building without a hitch since sleeping together. Obviously the honeymoon period ended quickly, he hadn't touched her since the letter. He was in full on angry original vampire reign of terror mode, trying to track down Madam Crisantha's family of seers. They had a fancy future telling necklace but nobody to wear it; seemed her family was less loyal than Madam to the Mikaelsons. Not a one of them was to be found so far, fleeing Mystic Falls and other known homes.

It was a muggy day with thick clouds wrapped over the Louisiana sky, baking the citizens like a hot potato under the blanketed sun. Hayley pulled at her damp blouse as she breezed into the lobby of the club, sighing blissfully at the blast of cool air.

“Wow...” she muttered, taking in the sight of topless women in weird chained thongs and high pony tails. It reminded her of that one time she went with some of her pack friends to a fetish party in her late teens. But this was weirder.

Hayley declined the offer to be walked to Marcel's office, replying to a young vampire with pierced nipples, “I know the way.”

There weren't many enjoying the show, but a young redhead on stage was slowly descending down a pole with legs spread and a smile plastered on her face. Hayley stopped for a moment to watch, kind of impressed with some of the moves.

A voice near Hayley's ear caused her to startle and whirl around.

“That's Cassandra,” Marcel smiled, nodding towards the stage. “She's the best we've got.”

“She's young,” Hayley murmured, crossing her arms tightly and biting her lip. Hayley wondered if the girl's mother knew where she was.

“My guys saved her from an abusive boyfriend a few years ago, turned her when she died from her injuries. Now she's training all my girls and is the most requested for vip rooms.”

Hayley watched Cassandra walk down the short runway to remove the last of her clothing.

Blinking away, Hayley replied, “I love a good survivor story, but I'm not here for your collection of naked baby vamps.”

“Come on,” Marcel said gently, “I'll pour you a drink.”

She followed close behind, eyes flicking once more towards the stage, wondering if the girl's mom ever cried over getting doors slammed in her face too.

The lights in his office flashed on as he unscrewed the bottle cap. Hayley accepted the drink, eyes honing in on a small picture of Marcel and Rebekah propped on his desk. It was a sketch that Hope had sent him one of their first Christmas's away from New Orleans, proudly perfecting her aunt's pretty features after hours of practice. Hayley felt a sliver of hopefulness at the sight; surely Marcel would be ready to play ball if it meant saving Hope from this act with Elijah. They were basically family, as much as any non-blood Mikaelson could get to the word.

He pointed towards the chair facing his desk.

“I'll stand,” she muttered, her heart thumping heavily.

Marcel eyed her calmly over his drink, nodding, “suit yourself. What can I help you with?”

Hayley asked flatly, “did you know?”

He set his glass down heavily, replying wearily, “yeah. I knew.”

That was as far as she'd gotten in her practice conversation during the walk over. Hayley didn't have a clue what she wanted to say to Marcel, but she needed to hear it from him that he was a part of getting Hope into this situation. She sunk down into the chair, eyes blurred and unfocused.

“What was Edith's final vision?” She sounded weird, even to her own ears. Glancing up as he turned to watch Cassandra from the glass wall, she choked out, “will Klaus die?”

Marcel spoke without looking at her, eyes following the redhead's body as she stepped off stage. “Rebekah wouldn't help us until she knew that without it, Klaus would become one of the infected. That's the thing about Seers and their visions-,” he turned to face her, solemnly continuing, “they can see a death, but a new choice could change the future. There's always a chance things could change, but there are always repercussions to every single choice.”

Things began to click into place, puzzle pieces snapping in Hayley's mind. All of this happened because of a vision about the infection's devastation. Rebekah and Freya worked together with Marcel to use Inadu's death as a way to both rid the world of her and have enough power for Hope to come back as a triple goddess. All so she could have children with a vampire whose bite contains the infection and whose child would be the cure.

Hayley felt the warmth leave her fingers. She shook them absently, realizing there really was no other way. She barely blinked when he approached, standing close and grasping her shoulders.

“So I guess the only question is, are you helping us make sure this child is born or...,” he gave a gentle squeeze before dropping his hands, “are you helping Klaus make sure it isn't?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was a week before her dad let her out of the house. Within that week, she'd been completely confined to her room that still resembled a post police search. Her dad had gone through every inch of the room and bathroom looking for drugs she wasn't even on. That and he refused to look Ada in the eye now.

“It was the only thing I could think of,” Ada had hissed from the corner of her mouth. As Klaus had flipped her mattress, Ada added, “he was _scary_!”

The worst things he found were Hope's vibrator and the dagger. Ada owned up to both, and he was now in possession of the only way to switch Elijah back to Uncle Elijah.

Ada had cringed and buried her face in her hands. “Your dad thinks i'm a total freak.”

Hope wasn't sure if Klaus locked away the dagger anyway just because he thought it was dangerous or because he had a feeling she had a dangerous use for it. Either way, not even magic could get it out of the safe. It was locked, sealed, spelled, and completely inaccessible.

Now, the girls were just returning from their day of shopping, gleefully spending hundreds of her father's dollars in the name of _retail therapy_. It was the only therapy Hope could stand lately. As they traipsed up the stone steps from the courtyard, weighed down by armloads of bags, her mom called for them to join the family for dinner.

After changing into clothes not drenched by sweat and salsa from the street tacos for lunch, the girls took their seats at dinner. She felt Elijah's eyes on her but she kept her attention on the bowl of cucumber salad.

“You look lovely sweetheart,” Klaus said brightly, as if he hadn't demolished her room recently.

Hope glanced down at the new flowy dress she'd tugged on, muttering, “thanks,” before shoving an overflowing spoonful into her mouth.

Elijah added, his eyes on Ada, “and red is truly a lovely color on you.”

“Thanks...” Ada muttered, shifting uncomfortably in her new crimson and navy striped jumper.

Their overuse of the word _lovely_ made Hope want to roll her eyes. Elijah had slipped into this role of Uncle Elijah pretty successfully this week, taking Kol's advice to just kiss ass and mimic her father's conversational directions. So far, so good. The only problem was that Hope had literally zero time to spend with Elijah alone.

“More blood, love?” her father called over the candle light, eyes settled at the other end of the table where her mom stared unfocused at her hands.

Without looking up, Hayley shook her head. Hope exchanged a look with Ada; her mom had been acting really weird lately. Like, really weird. As if the fight was gone from her eyes which was _so_ not the Hayley Marshall everyone was familiar with. Just last night the girls had overheard Klaus shouting at her to snap out of it, that he needed her help with finding a new seer.

He had slammed their bedroom door, though his words could still be heard vibrating down the hall, “this isn't like you, Hayley! It's as if you've rolled over and accepted everything in that letter. It is time to fight again, I need you on this!”

Now, her dad stood from the table, his chair scraping in an exaggerated loud scuff, fingers gripped around a pitcher of donated blood. They were being extremely careful on the screening process of their feeding habits since more cases of the infection were being reported in the states. It was kind of scary, really.

Hope looked towards Elijah in alarm as Klaus filled Hayley's cup anyway, a rigidness to his movements. It was an old habit, expecting Uncle Elijah to jump in to protect against her father's harsher sides. But, he was not Uncle Elijah right now and was unaware of how his voice could talk her dad down from pushing too far with Hayley.

“I said no,” she replied dully, large eyes flicking up to meet his in a quiet challenge.

“Perhaps you would snap out of it if you were feeding correctly,” he added helpfully but in a tense tone.

Uncle Kol interjected, “bloody hell, I'll drink it Nik. Elijah and I are practically starving over here so if the girl doesn't want it...”

Ada let out a sharp gasp when Klaus flashed to his side and snapped his neck. Kol crumpled and landed face first into his plate of pasta. Was everyone totally losing it? The room grew silent, only Bruno daring to move, his retreating claws on the stone floor skittering away.

Finally, Klaus pointed a finger at Hayley, voice low and thick with suppressed frustration, “you will not give up.”

“I'm not,” she snapped, standing quickly and tossing the dark cloth napkin to her plate, bits of dinner splattering up onto Hope's arms. “Sorry,” she whispered towards Hope, a look of vacancy in her large eyes.

Hayley's gaze wavered between Hope's and her dad's...but when her glistening gaze landed on Elijah, and the dummy didn't even offer an ounce of pity like Uncle Elijah would have, she had a total meltdown.

Hope's heart had never hurt so badly.

“You don't look at me anymore and _you won't let me in_.” The pain in his voice was really heart wrenching. It made Hope want to shake her mother out of this stupor before she built her wall too high. It reminded Hope of the weeks following her family's abandonment, Inadu festering in the four siblings and Hope sobbing on the floor with her mom's strong arms holding her in place. Hayley had crumbled too, just not as loud and always alone. Something that frustrated Hope, but also left her envious, was her mother's ability to hurt without hurting others. Though, it seemed this time it was hurting her dad pretty badly.

“Can we not do this here?” Hayley asked sharply, gesturing around the room.

Klaus threw his hands in the air, “ _when_ , then? In the bed you no longer join me in? Or perhaps in all the moments you exit each room I walk in to? If an audience is what you seek, well sweetheart -you have one. _Do_ explain why you have slammed the door in my face when I need you the most... before I take this as a sure signal that you no longer wish to fight alongside me.”

Hayley's face fell. “Klaus...”

Hope fell motionless, hands clasped in her lap, watching the emotion drenching every thick word and gesture her father made. He pulled her mom in for a tight hug, cradling her head and shaking with it all.

“You believe the vision. Is that it? You believe I will die without the child.”

She nodded. Relief seemed to relax her in Klaus's arms. He dropped them, taking a step back, though his expression seemed gentle.

“Your detachment is because you fear crossing me. You fear allowing the child to be born would be an unforgivable act.”

She nodded again, eyes only on his, fists clenching and unclenching at her sides.

“You promised,” he stated, looking truly wounded.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head and lips trembling, “I'm fearful and confused just like everyone else in this situation. But people are dying Klaus. And with the vision-”

Hope startled as Klaus slammed his fists to the table, splintering the wood. She'd never seen him so red in the face. Her anxiety was ridiculously all over the place. Breathing was hard. The room seemed to close in.

“Enough with the vision. Focus Hayley. All we need is to find a seer in Madam's bloodline. We will trust the next vision, but I will not allow that man to touch my daughter based on a vision I did not even get to see for myself. If I die, then so be it. What sort of father would I be if I didn't do everything possible to prevent it?”

Hayley's eyes closed, pain tugging at her features. Hope held her breath, feeling Ada's fingers grasp her own beneath the table. Kol jerked alive, gasping for air, but he was hardly looked at. He seemed to understand things were still heated because he simply rubbed his neck, wincing and sinking in his seat..

“ You mean...what sort of mother am I, then?” she asked, chin set and eyes steady.

Hope swallowed, trying to get a breath. It came thinly and she looked up nervously at Elijah. Needing comfort. Needing safety. He looked back, worry creasing his brow. If it were her uncle sitting there instead, he'd be at her father's side, diffusing the situation and offering counsel.

He wasn't though, and they were all left with their swirling thoughts. Asking herself the same question...what sort of mother would Hope be, bringing a child into all of this? The thought seized her with crushing panic and before she knew it, she was gripping the table and fighting for air. Bruno returned with speed, his high pitched whimpers the only sound infiltrating her family's questioning concern.

“You've upset her!” Elijah stated angrily, the first to reach her side.

Hope let him pry her hands from the table, kneeling to peer into her unfocused gaze. Everything else went silent as she stared into his bark colored eyes, the warm hum of his comforting words soothing her breaths into steadier gulps of air. It was usually harder to ease her out of a panic attack, but he had her dizzily soothed in mere moments.

“Return to your seat,” her dad's voice penetrated the moment of relief.

Elijah's eyes flashed for a moment, but he composed himself, giving her hands a squeeze before releasing to stand.

“I apologize, I just cannot bare to watch this family deteriorate as it has. We must fight alongside one another. Questions and choices will inevitably be made along the way, and we must support that process in all of us. Please. Hope does not need to suffer more than she already has.”

Hope nearly smiled. It was something her uncle definitely would have said. He really was good at this...at reading her father and acting accordingly. Probably because somewhere deep inside was her uncle that had been at her fathers' side longer than her young mind could ever comprehend.

Before anyone could reply, she shakily stood, turning to bolt from the room. It was all too much. She needed the dark and silence. Everyone's energy was so bleak and heavy, Hope was starting to feel that way herself. It was worse for her because it took way longer to come back out of the darkness.

“Hope,” her dad called. He didn't continue until she finally turned around to face him. “I've made an appointment with Dr. Shelton. The three of us are going.” He looked pointedly at her mom. “As a family.”

She wondered, as she nodded and walked away, if the appointment was more for her parent's benefit than her own. Somehow, she seemed like the most stable one lately.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hayley crawled into bed, hand finding his under the covers. They didn't speak and he never moved. He didn't squeeze her hand back when she gripped so hard she was sure it hurt. They left the balcony doors wide open, warm and damp air pouring in. It reminded her of the way it felt to float in the gulf, the water so close to her own body temperature that it felt as if she hovered weightlessly in the air.

He had turned to face the doors, his pale back blocking her view of the street. She counted the old scars, her fingers tracing the longest one. That one was from Mikael -Klaus had only been thirteen. The more he opened up to her lately, the deeper she felt they were more alike than she'd ever realized.

“I'm not giving up,” she whispered. “I'm just a little lost right now...” she admitted. It was hard to admit.

He didn't reply but he also didn't ask her to stop when she ran her palm in soothing circles between his shoulder blades, eventually putting him to sleep. They both needed the physical contact, it seemed. His snores were soft and light, never changing even when she curled against him, molding her body to the curve of his.

Bruno barked from downstairs as soon as Hayley had started sinking into a dreamless sleep, jolting them both awake. The headboard thumped the wall as Klaus flipped over to face her, tangling his legs with hers. They stared wordlessly at one another in the dark, not even moonlight filtering in on this cloudy night. Sharp hybrid vision allowed the outline and details of his familiar face to focus after a while. He looked troubled and sad.

Klaus put a warm hand to her cheek, words soft, “I cannot accept that the only way is to allow Elijah and Hope to...” He couldn't even say the words. She couldn't either, it was why she had shut down after speaking with Marcel. It was why every time she looked at Elijah or Hope, she felt hollow.

“Some things are out of our control,” Hayley reminded him gently. It was a hard truth. One she could barely choke down so far herself.

“I don't like our options,” he admitted, tugging her to a sitting position with him.

Raising her arms so he could peel off her shirt, she agreed, “yeah, they suck.”

Hayley thought he was initiating something more, but it was skin to skin contact he craved. It was another wolf thing that went unspoken. She was glad he was being so understanding and patient instead of wounded and angry like at dinner. It all felt foreign. She wanted to believe she would be forgiven if they ended up on separate ends of the fight, but it was like they were ignoring the fact that slowly but surely they were working towards different goals.

“I have something of importance I wish to speak with you about in the presence of Dr. Shelton,” he murmured, holding her bare skin against his cool chest.

“Why can't you talk to me now?”

He didn't answer for a while, his fingers pushing kneading circles over her tense back muscles. It felt amazing. So calming. It reminded her of when she was a bit younger than Hope, laying in the arms of the man she allowed to touch her. The man she could never bring herself to kill for warping her early adolescence.

“I've done something I said I wouldn't and I seek your forgiveness. I need help figuring out how to ask for it.”

“What?” Unease coating her words, Hayley propped up to look at him, “what did you do?”

“I need time.” His touch was too warm. “Let's sleep...” he whispered, ignoring her question.

If Hayley weren't so exhausted from their arguments and all of the sleepless nights alone in a big bed with her thoughts, she would press the issue. But, sleep came quickly and without mercy.

* * *

 

 

 

“I'm nervous about sleeping with him,” Hope whispered into the still room.

The strung up fairy lights rattled against the bed posts as Ada rolled to face her. The girls were nearly nose to nose and Hope could count every freckle on her friend's face. The room was so hot that they slept in their tank tops and panties over the fraying quilt that was once Grandma Mary's, hair blowing off their damp foreheads from the oscillating fan.

Ada reached out and ran a warm fingertip down the slope of Hope's nose. When she reached the tip, Ada shrieked gleefully as Hope playfully nipped, biting her finger gently. It was something they did when they were just little kids -something she had missed desperately.

Hope wrapped her arms around her friend, burying her face in the raven hair that always smelled like the spiced scent of potion-making; sage and bubbling valerian. Ada had already sold out of her first batch or love potion this month, doing very well through the New Orleans witch-owned stores. Her secret was increasing libido because a true love potion required dark magic and such things were forbidden in The Quarter.

“Don't be scared,” Ada whispered back, hugging Hope closer. Bruno's tail thumped against the hardwood under the bed. He was panting but refused to roam far from Hope ever since her dad snapped Uncle Kol's neck in front of him.

Hope rolled to her back to dangle a hand off the bed. It was too hot to cuddle. Bruno obediently nudged her fingertips with a dry nose.

“I'm going to make Bruno go get his water and food in the kitchen, he hasn't left the upstairs all day. Wanna join?”

“No, I literally can't walk those stairs anymore. I think I officially have thigh definition now.”

“You have always had the best legs ever, shut up.” Snapping her fingers for Bruno, Hope asked over her shoulder, “can I get you anything while I'm down there?”

“Ice water would be awesome.”

“You got it.”

Hope knew her parents were asleep so she opted to walk the long trek to the kitchen pantsless. The stone flooring felt cool on her feet, maybe the girls should sleep downstairs instead.

She felt his presence before spotting him. Bruno barked at Elijah, who leaned silently in the doorway, arms crossed and eyes following her every move. She shushed the old dog and got his food out.

Elijah tilted his head. “Come here,” he commanded gently, nodding towards the small bathroom.

Hope obeyed and once inside, flattened herself against the wall to make room for him. The moment the loud lock snapped like a metallic clap, he turned to look into her widened eyes.

“I came to leave you a note, but since fate has aligned us on this particular night, I can tell you in person,” he said so softly she had to lean into his words. His gaze started on her lips as he continued, “but first, I must urge you to wear this exact ensemble on the night we pursue our plan.”

“I have way cuter things,” she rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the smile or the flutter in her chest. It was weird, but she liked the approval and the attention.

“Meet me tomorrow at the Monteleone. Bring Ada, you two can have the adjoining room once we've completed our objective.”

Hope snorted and lightly interjected, “that's a nice way to say fucking.”

He ignored her and continued, “tell your father you grow tired of sleepless nights in a stuffy old house and can't stand the sight of him fighting so much with your mother.”

Hope didn't want to seem too eager. “That feels so sleazy,” she murmured, peering up at him through her lashes. She never stood this close to her uncle.

“It's a five star hotel.”

“Okay...” Hope offered a grin,“escort level sleazy.”

He thumbed her cheek, as if there was something on it. “Do you have a better idea?”

“No. That sounds nice actually. But...” Hope wet her lips and looked down. “I'm not sure I'm uh...ready?” Her eyes flicked up to gauge his reaction.

He seemed to grasp what she meant, tilting his head. “We can use the time to get acquainted on a more personal level, of course. I understand we are nearly strangers entering into an extremely intimate situation.”

She was surprised, had expected him to want to get to it as soon as they could. “Really? I mean, I don't mind a bunch of quickies until it works. You don't have to romance me or anything like that.”

“I think,” he murmured, stepping close to lightly run a finger across her collarbone, “that our son deserves to be conceived out of something...slightly more meaningful than that. While I would like to get to know you as my niece, I would also like to get to know you as the mother of my child.”

There was only one man she'd ever had sex with that she also loved. His image flashing in a montage of memories, Hope took Elijah's hand, asking delicately, “when will you tell me where Henry is?”

“When we are on the same page about some things, of course.”

Shaking her head, she asked, “what does that even mean?”

He gently removed his hand from hers. “That is something to discuss later.”

Hope bit her lip, and then smiled up at him when she remembered he hadn't seen Henrik yet. She had shown Uncle Elijah, but it's not like he gave a damn.

Placing her hands on either side of his face, he seemed to know what she was doing because he closed his eyes and opened freely to her. She pushed the memories of Henrik into his mind, making sure to show him every detail of the little boy that they would bring into this world.

After, she slid her hands down to his chest, something in her belly stirring at the sight of Elijah's expression. _That_ was the sort of response she had hoped for with Uncle Elijah. This Elijah felt the same things she did for their son.

“He's perfect,” Elijah whispered, a faint smile on his astonished face.

Something deep and intense fueled her in the following moments. Looking at him was like looking at someone other than Uncle Elijah. She remembered the way he felt and tasted before, when he'd captured her -something she definitely pushed out of her mind when Uncle Elijah was around.

A hiss of exhaled breath escaped his nostrils as she pushed her mouth to his. There's no pause, Elijah's hands immediately gripped her hips as he returned the kiss with searing intensity. She knew all of this was wrong-wrong-wrong...but whatever was inherently damaged inside her certainly didn't disappear just because she came back as a triple goddess. Because...there _was_ something wrong with feeling this way about your father's brother. It's not like she didn't know that.

But. The man always knew exactly what to say to her. The chemistry...undeniable. His tongue slipped and nudged against her own; her toes curled and everything ached. It had been so long since she'd been with someone in this way and her body screamed for more the moment he broke away, taking a step back.

She stared up at him in a daze, heart pounding so thickly that she could feel the pulse in her teeth. Elijah's lips were shiny with saliva and so swollen that she wanted them planted all over her buzzing skin. For a split second, she thought of the way Uncle Elijah seemed disgusted at the images of Henrik she'd flooded him with in the dungeon. It hurt in a way. Deeper than she realized before seeing this Elijah's reaction.

Instead of a devastation in his dark mahogany eyes, there was a gentle openness. She almost cried in relief and appreciation when he pulled her into a tight and reassuring hug.

His fingers tangling gently through her hair, he whispered, “I will see you tomorrow evening, sweet girl.”

She practically melted. Only Henry had ever called her that.

* * *

 

“Your girl came to see me,” Marcel grinned around his drink like a smug cat with a mouthful of prey.

“Hope came here?” Klaus pondered aloud. That child was pushing her boundaries entirely too hard with him. She wasn't going to like it when she was dragged to a family therapy meeting after her birthday.

“Hayley,” Marcel corrected.

Klaus clenched his jaw. “I take it you have something to share about your interaction?”

“I do. I want to ask you to do something for me.”

“I hardly think you're in a position to ask me for a damn thing, Marcellus. My sisters are like vegetables rotting in a garden while my daughter is losing her sanity and testing mine. And _you_ ,” Klaus jabbed a finger towards him, “are at the center of it all.”

“That's debatable,” Marcel shrugged. He handed Klaus a drink. Brandy. Not even his best stock. It was an insult, but Klaus had more important things to focus on.

He held the gulp of dark liquid in the back of his throat, letting it burn before swallowing. What he really felt like doing was flashing onto the stage behind Marcel's glass office to tear into the young stripper's slender neck. Being on his best behavior since bringing Hayley and Hope back home had done very little for his growing rage at this appalling situation. There was pent up hybrid anger _begging_ to show itself. He craved the hunt and the kill. He craved the careless and aggressive sex. He craved anything that would help him release _everything_.

Marcel's voice broke Klaus's thoughts, “would you like a private dance from Cassandra? She's the best we've got. Hayley seemed to like her.”

Klaus's eyes cut sharply to his, “what is it you wish to speak with me about?” He was no fool. Hayley didn't like to play with her food. She liked to pretend her vampire side didn't exist beyond hunger and survival. A shame too, because it was the most helpful way to snuff out the unspent anger and anxiety.

“My guys have been following Kol and we're getting a bit concerned with his...increased interest in the club. Can't have him getting carried away and biting someone. Especially one of mine.”

“If you wish for me to toss him in the dungeons, consider it done. I can only keep my eyes on so many insolent family members at a time.”

“You seem stressed. Sure you don't want that dance?”

Klaus tapped his chin before asking slowly, “tell her I'll pay double if she makes house calls.”

Marcel's eyes widened and a huge grin transformed his face. “How's Hayley going to feel about that?”

“Oh, the girl's not for me. If you'd rather Kol not come to the club to satiate his needs, perhaps we shall bring the club to him.”

“And how will you ensure he doesn't feed from her? Lose control and infect my best girl? No. No, that won't do.”

“Oh come now, Marcellus, if he bites her then i'll lock him up. This way, he's kept happy and out of your club. I'll be sure to leave your club and your girls raving reviews.”

Then, an idea tickled the back of his mind. He didn't like to waste a good opportunity.

As Klaus was leaving, he pulled out his phone and texted Hayley: _hope you're hungry._

They'd have a little fun and release some of this pent up everything before they started taking it out on each other or Hope. Little Wolf was running around juggling motherhood, alpha pack duties, and what she liked to call her _baby daddy duties_ when he was being especially difficult. Knowing her, she's too noble to satiate the hybrid needs that seem to surface in times of stress.

His duties to the mother of his child were just as important, and it was time he tended to them. 

 

* * *

 

 

With the girls staying at a hotel for the night, Hayley was slightly more willing to appease Klaus's weird notion that her hybrid self needed some care and attention. To her, it just seemed like he was trying an obvious tactic to have a threesome with a stripper he was into. She wasn't sure whether to take him seriously or not.

With both hands on Hayley's shoulders, Klaus peered earnestly into her eyes, stating in his alluring accent, “love, we are both dangling by a thread. We've been taking some things out on each other when all we need is to let the wolf and monster out to play for a bit.”

She pursed her lips, glancing at the red head nursing a glass of whiskey on the edge of Klaus's bed.

“When you said you had an unconventional idea, I was thinking more along the lines of taking our wolf forms and having rough sex in the woods.”

He scrunched his nose. “If this doesn't work, we shall try your idea. But Hayley...this will help. I've been a hybrid far longer than you, and there are some battles we face that wolves and vampires do not have to at this degree. I've slaughtered thousands to try and appease my needs. This works and there's no mass murder involved.”

“Well bonus points for that...” “I guess. But this is just feeding, right? Sorry to dissapoint but I'm not really into the whole threesome thing.”

“I will pass her along to Kol after our bellies are full.”

Hayley rolled her eyes, trying to avoid the image of Kol having his way with the girl eying them with little interest from the bed. “So how do we do this exactly?”

“Lately, at your worst, what is it you crave?”

She shrugged, “blood. Sex. A good fight.”

“I crave the same. But more than that, I crave the hunt.”

“What do you mean, the hunt?”

Klaus swept Cassandra's hair from her neck. “Not only are we vampires who desire blood and feeding on our victims, but we're wolves with the instinct to hunt and chase that which we need and desire. As a hybrid, hunting our prey is the most satiating act there is.” Hayley wasn't sure whether it bothered her or heightened her desire to watch him touch another in such a sensual way.

He cradled the girl's face, and compelled with a sultry tone, “run and hide. You mustn't leave the property and you must do your best to never be found. You are the mouse, you see.”

Cassandra froze, a strange look on her features. Maybe she wasn't sure whether to be terrified or amused. Hayley wasn't sure she liked this.

Klaus leaned forward, touching a ringlet of copper. “You have ten seconds”, giving her a gentle shove, he urged, “shoo.”

“One...” Klaus began counting as she darted out of the room, her footfall fading across the hardwoods. “Two...” he continued, turning and dropping a kiss at Hayley's cheek. His fingers trailed down her spine, “three...”

Hayley gasped as his fangs sunk into her neck. Desire exploded in sharp throbs and her knees buckled. His arm grasped her by the lower waist. He held up four fingers, counting silently - then five, drinking in aggressive pulls.

He unlatched and called through a blood coated mouth, “six...”

Hayley's instincts took over, the thrill of it all appealing to something she didn't know was even in need of such a situation. She bit into his neck, too hard she thinks. But god...

He uttered, “seven... _”_ his pulse gushing into her mouth, “eight...” he moaned...

She unlatched and within the remaining two seconds, she stood staring wild eyed and breaths heaving, her parted mouth dribbling with his thick blood. He took a fistful of her hair, yanking back to tilt her kiss to his. It hurt and only triggered some sort of insane need to find their food first... to beat him at his twisted game of cat and mouse.

There was something extremely erotic in tangling her coated tongue with his, their kisses smearing blood and senses igniting like a first spark. She felt it in her toes and as soon as her fingers traveled towards the waistband of his bulging dark pants, he flashed off.

She stood for a moment, hair fluttering around her face from his departure...unsure where to start or what to do. So...she let that part -the ignited part made of hungry vampire and eager wolf- take over. She pricked her hearing, flexing as far as it could go. She heard the thrum of city life outside. Somewhere downstairs, Bruno could be heard licking at a spot on his fur. There was the humming appliances in the kitchen below. Heartbeats. A gasp.

Hayley flashed towards the sound, letting her senses lead the way. Everything was sharpened with detail and enhanced from the hunt. This was exactly what she needed; he'd been right about her. About them. Being a hybrid was different and she wondered how alone he must have felt with all these needs manifesting so separately from his vampire siblings.

“You aren't very good at hiding, are you sweetheart,” Klaus could be heard tittering from somewhere down the hall.

Stepping into the study, Hayley could scent blood and feel the warmth of a nearby presence. It was hard to explain how she could sense people on a whole new level since transitioning. She usually just ignored everything that wasn't her wolf side. The blood cravings and hunger and heightened _everything_ took some getting used to. She never gave in to it or relished in the...pretty fantastic way feeding on someone could make her feel.

A sound jerked her attention from down the hall. Hayley crept towards it, stretching her senses to their limits. Klaus was close, she felt him over everything else seeping in.

He stood behind Cassandra, his knuckles running down her cheek and a smile on his swollen lips, peering at Hayley with a look of triumph. It's not like she expected to beat a thousand year old hybrid at his hunting game, but the short hunt did nothing more than light a fire of need to continue the entertainment.

“Are you having fun?” His words were exaggerated and low. Suggestive.

Hayley nodded, eyes on Cassandra's neck.

“And what would my queen like to do next? Release the prey and try again...or...” Klaus's fingers began plucking the buttons of the girl's shirt.

A small part of Hayley...the sane human part...told her the girl didn't deserve to be toyed with like this. She was young and probably didn't want to become their meal and plaything. But that part was so terrifyingly small that Hayley could only listen to her wolf that wanted to hunt and her vampire that wanted to devour the girl -and that complete hybrid part of her wanted to please her hybrid mate and take him in her mouth and do all the things she learned at a young age to do to a man.

Shaking away the clawing desire, she replied huskily, “show me...”

A look of surprise flashed across his face, but he quickly recovered, keeping his eyes locked on hers, slipping Cassandra free from her blouse. The girl made a throaty sound and a smile flickered on her agape mouth as Klaus's fingers traced the swell of her bare breasts.

This wasn't like Hayley...it was wrong and weird and such a vampire thing to do. But...everything bothering her and building and boiling inside seemingly dissipated, taking a back seat to the desire and intrigue she felt for this scene playing out at Klaus's hand.

“Cassandra...would you like Hayley to touch you as I am?”

The girl nodded and replied softly, “my only rules are Marcel's rules.”

It was widely known that Marcel's girls provided entertainment and companionship for the right price. The only rules were to show them respect and no feeding from stated off limits regions. Cassandra hadn't listed any.

Hayley approached slowly, heart hammering and hunger gnawing. The thought of feeding from this girl in front of Klaus did something to her. Something dark and tantalizing, twisting like a rush of adrenaline.

She had no idea what she was about to do. Did he expect her to touch the girl's bare skin and kiss her lips? Was he really expecting things to progress beyond a meal. He said no sex. This all seemed a bit...it was just weird and sort of presumptuous.

His thumb played with the girl's nipple, hardening it as they seemingly waited for Hayley to figure out what she was going to do.

“You're certain you want to learn how I numb the pain?” Klaus asked, a hint of sincerity in his otherwise lust-darkened eyes.

Hayley nodded again. She felt like she was in an alternate universe or something. Never would she have suspected she'd find herself in this sort of situation with Klaus Mikaelson. It felt too good forgetting all of the horrible things going on around them to stop. She didn't want to stop.

Never has her heart beat this fast or hard. Her hybrid senses yanked her in all directions. The sight of the girl's eyes fluttering shut and mouth parting open with a silent moan as his hands cupped her breasts, squeezing and kneading...-Hayley's breath hitched. He noticed.

“Come here,” he murmured, “don't fight it...” He presented Cassandra's neck with a slight tug of the fiery curls. “It will all feel better once we feed together.”

Is that all they were doing? Just playing with their food a little before filling up and enjoying the blood's affects? Or was he suggesting something more? And why wasn't she running the other way at the prospect of taking a really messed up turn in the relationship they've been treating so carefully lately?

His hand reached for her and she gravitated towards it, letting him tug her closer. With Cassandra wedged between them, Klaus's mouth tasted of blood -swollen and soft with building desire.

Klaus broke the kiss early, placing his mouth close to Hayley's ear. In that teasing and husky accent, he commanded, “I want you to take from her neck until you feel it in your fingertips.”

He released her, taking several steps backwards to watch under heavy lids. Hayley fed with a different kind of hunger. She felt the girl's sighs and moans and heard the change in Klaus's breathing from the drink cart. He poured a drink and bit into his palm, squeezing blood until the whiskey swirled crimson.

She unlatched and watched Cassandra wince from the wolf venom bubbling from the wound, eagerly drinking down the drink and sighing in relief. Hayley idly wondered how much Klaus was paying to have this girl suffer in such a way. But the fucked up part of it all was that the girl seemed to really like all of this.

“I have something to tell you,” he said tightly, the mood taking a sudden sharp turn.

Hayley found she didn't really care about the muffled warning bells going off somewhere deep inside. He looked regretful meaning he probably did something she really didn't want him to do. But the blood and the thrill of the hunt and the peace of not thinking about Elijah and Hope...it was too nice to spoil.

Klaus handed her a drink too, then reached for Cassandra. The girl obeyed and let out a sound that tugged at the burn between Hayley's clenched thighs.

“I was going to wait until our therapy session, you see. But I think now is an appropriate time. The anger can be taken out on me in a...healthier manner, I believe.”

What the hell was he talking about? All she wanted to do was take another gulp of the girl and then slip back into bed with him. She wanted to keep this feeling going, not looking forward to the inevitable come down that left her lost and sad and wondering how she could protect her daughter and Klaus at the same time. The two were conflicting goals and it was inevitable Hayley harmed one or both of them with her choices.

He dismissed Cassandra and Hayley found herself disappointed. A part of her was intrigued about the possibilities there...

Klaus tugged her back to his bed, not kissing her back with the same vigor as she was delivering. Stepping back she crossed her arms tightly over chest.

“What is it?” She asked warily. Losing this newfound peace was not an option right now. And with all this blood -way more than she was used to ingesting- she felt like wasting the high would be regrettable.

He opened and closed his mouth several times, before giving up and bowing his head.

“I am a fool. I shouldn't have orchestrated all of this. It is a cowardly way to tell you I've done something that will upset you.”

“Wait, what?” Hayley asked dumbfounded. He set all this blood sharing and hunt stuff up just so she would receive his admissions better?

“I killed the man. The neighbor from your past.”

“WHAT?”

“I have betrayed you and I'm s-”

She slapped him, euphoria and calmness be damned. His head whipped and his eyes closed.

“Damn right you betrayed me. He was _mine_ to kill. I told you this. You _swore_. I-...I _trusted_ you with that!”

He grabbed her wrists when she launched forward, jerking her in place. Hayley wasn't sure what to say. She wasn't even sure if her fuzzy brain was wrapping around this at all. She deserved the truth under a clear mind, not an intoxicated one.

Pulling away, she seethed, “you killed him and decided to manipulate my hybrid side so that I wouldn't get as angry with you?”

“No. No you've gotten it wrong, Little Wolf...”

“Don't call me that,” she snapped.

His face fell. “I have been so angry, Hayley...so angry. The thought of you allowing Hope and my brother... _Elijah_.”

“So you think this makes us even?”

“No. Please listen. The anger has been consuming and I have a history of doing less than admirable things under such conditions. Even to those who I love the most.” His fingers thread into her hair. She doesn't back up, liking the way it calms her further.

He didn't look her in the eye as he continued. “We wouldn't hurt each other this way. We could get angry like normal people if our hybrid sides were...toned down a bit. It is something I have had to rely on for centuries. It is something Hope walked in on me doing long ago, and she was far too young to understand it then. It is hard to accept she is old enough now to understand it in the same capacity as I.” He looked up, as if realizing he was rambling.

Hayley croaked, “why did you do it?”

“Because I love you. He hurt you. Damaged you. He had to pay.”

“He was mine to kill.”

Klaus looked at her now. Raised his chin and softly stated, “but you haven't. And you won't. That's why you told me, is it not? To ensure he could no longer hurt anyone else. You couldn't do it and you knew it needed to be done.”

“Godammit...” she squeezed out between clenched teeth. He wasn't wrong.

He grabbed her jaw, an expression on his face that used to make her uneasy. Now she understood his intensity and rage rarely came from a place of hate. Not when directed at those he loved.

“Lady Crisantha's kin has been located. We will speak with her tomorrow.”

“If...” Hayley trailed off. This was an impossible situation.

Klaus finished the sentence for her, his breathy words tickling her skin, “if she sees the infection claiming my life then you and I will be working against one another. Am I correct?”

Hayley nodded, wincing at his grip.

“I do not wish to harm you, Little Wolf,” he dropped his hand and wrapped his arms around her tightly, lowly stating near her ear, “but you will not win this particular battle. I will not allow Elijah and Hope a second alone.”

Hayley thought about Mitch, still suffering from the slowed down affects of the infection under Vincent's watchful care. He would die, and soon. Reports have reached New Orleans of more cases on the east coast, and now on the west. The infection was spreading and it was only a matter of time before it reached their doorstep.

The pack was on edge, pressing her to take action. Hope was falling into drugs and who knows what else as another episode was becoming glaringly apparent. Even all of Cassandra's blood and the thrill of the hunt blanketing her, Hayley could not avoid the creeping feeling of dread as Klaus's gaze bore holes into her skull.

Hayley couldn't deal with it all rushing in so she kissed him hard. This time was full of pent up aggression; gnashing fangs and broken glass and splintering wood. He wasn't gentle, but neither was she. And it felt good. It felt right.

When they collapsed in a sweaty heap at the center of his mattress, she shuddered against his damp body. The floor and walls were smeared crimson, like when Hope had gotten into his paints as a toddler. Klaus kissed her neck.

They slept tangled and nude, Hayley's hair tangled around his fingers and her nose pressed to the thump of his pulse.

 

* * *

 

“Good luck,” Ada smiled reassuringly, ducking into the adjoining room. The door closed with a click, and even though they were only separated by a few inches of drywall, Hope suddenly felt extremely alone.

Turning quickly on her heel, Hope darted to the bathroom to prepare. This all reminded her of the moments she prepared before sleeping with Henry the first time. She shaved everything twice and had tried on every bra and panty set she owned. Now, she repeated this process in the luxurious bathtub, adding rose oil to the water and drinking half a bottle of wine before he showed up.

Hope was just grasping the insanely fluffy towel, dabbing her damp and pinkened skin, when the soft knock rapped like a light rhythm. Hope gave herself a scrutinizing glance in the full length mirror before hurrying to the door. She really did have cuter things to wear than this, but he seemed to like the pantsless look, for whatever reason.

He was holding a single rose and smelled like cigars and scotch. She locked the door behind them and lingered in the small entryway as he shed his coat, draping it over an ornate chair in the corner. When it seemed she was planted in a frozen position, a small smile tugged at his lips and he approached, his expensive shoes making indented prints in the plush carpet. He used the tip of the rose to trace a delicate line from her lips all the way down her neck, pausing over a hardened nipple. A flush dotted her chest as her body embarrassingly responded to the attention; rapid heartbeats and a throb between her legs.

“For you,” he murmured, tapping her once on the cheek with the flower. She plucked it from his fingers and breathed in the familiar scent. He must have taken it from the gardens near the Abattoir.

Blinking up at him with a shy smile, she replied, “so charming, uncle.” She froze, realizing her mistake.

He caught it and clucked his tongue, shaking his head, “no my dear, I am not him, remember that. He belongs to them and I...” his warm palm settled on her belly, as if she already carried their child, “belong to you.”

Hope nodded slowly, understanding the need to separate the two sides of this one man. Uncle Elijah's eyes would bleed out if he ever had to see any of this progress. He definitely did not look at her the way Elijah does. He would never make her feel like a beautiful and sensual woman, not like him.

They sat on the small velvety couch, wine glasses grasped and conversation minimal. His eyes never left her, and she felt them as she got up to close the curtains tightly and click on a lamp. She caught another glimpse of her reflection in the decorative mirror, wondering if he liked this ensemble so much because her bare ass cheeks were so perkily on display.

When she rejoined him, she sat closer, their legs and shoulders brushing warmly. They talked about music and art, getting lost in conversation before Hope realized he was probably waiting for her to make the first move. Enough wine hummed through her veins that she felt comfortable enough to do so.

She had made a decision while dragging the razor up her dripping leg before he arrived. Her birthday was in a week. Officially an adult, though even her dad had been referring to her as an eighteen year old for months..

“So...” she began, setting her wine glass to the end table. Grabbing his hands in hers, she continued, “I turn eighteen next week.”

“Happy early birthday,” he murmured, fingers tickling into her palms.

“I want to wait until then to um...finally try.”

He looked at her thoughtfully, as if running through suspected reasons for the decision. Dropping her hands, he pulled her into his lap. It surprised her, but it wasn't awkward. Not like if Uncle Elijah had done it.

Hope felt a tug of need. This felt good. Safe. She held her breath when his warm palms rested on her bare thighs. Being treated like this covered Hope in the most delicious shiver.

Wetting her lips, she went on to say, “Uncle Elijah is really messed up over all of this. I know it doesn't change things in his mind, but it's the least I can do. It's the only thing I can do for him... Maybe ease the sting a little if he knew it didn't happen before I was an adult.”

He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, “it is only a number.” Tilting his head he whispered, “you really are a sweet girl, Hope. My wish is that he understands the love and respect you hold for him through this process. I don't know the love he has for your family, but I am him and he is me. I know he suffers. It is a kindness, and I agree. We shall wait.”

She didn't know how to respond so she traced her finger around a button on his shirt, lost in thought. There was so much to consider. So much to talk about -to make sure they were on the same page once all was said and done, for one.

“Once Henrik is old enough, should we explain to him about the split consciousness? I want him to know a part of his father wanted him, you know?”

He adjusted beneath her, redistributing her weight in his lap. “And are we calling him Henrik?” he asked lightly.

Hope shrugged and moved her finger up a button, replying “I don't know. Do you like it?”

“It feels right,” he nodded. “It is a family name as well as for your the man you love -Henry.”

She smiled, nodding back. Though, Hope wasn't so sure there was the same sort of love left between herself and Henry. And knowing he was out there alive...it was good news but since learning about her son, not much else took up space anymore.

Resting her head to that spot in the crook of his neck that felt familiar and safe, he stood and carried her effortlessly to the bed. It stunned her, thinking maybe he would try to initiate something more even after they'd agreed not to for another week. But, all he did was lay alongside her after gently placing her into the most comfortable bed she'd been on in a while. He propped on an elbow to peer down.

“There's something that concerns me...” he admitted, his fingers finding hers. They tangled together and she wondered if he even wanted to become so familiar or if it was for her sake -so that sex and co parenting would come easier for them.

Or...that paranoid part of her seeping in...it was a ploy to get her to do what he wanted about Henrik when the time came. Or worse -to get her to trust him before he took Henrik away. Her heart hammered at the thought. Would he do that to her? Was Uncle Elijah right in saying there was nothing he would not do to protect his family. What would he do to make sure Henrik was raised in a safer and more loving environment?

Hope brought her knees up, swaying them in an anxious habit. “There's a lot that concerns me too, I want us to be able to talk about anything. You know?”

He nodded, “precisely. Which is why I must admit I am troubled by the idea that our son will barely know me. That he will be raised by the side of me that is disgusted by our union.”

Hope felt the prick of dread in her gut. She feared exactly the same. What if Henrik never felt loved? What if he had the same abilities as Hope, able to feel what others felt towards him. He didn't deserve the pain of it all. No child did.

She let one knee fall, landing atop his abdomen. His hand dropped to her skin, the contact easing her growing anxiety. It was truly hard to tell if it was her disorder and everything was fine, or her natural instinct was warning her that something didn't feel right.

Hope blinked up to explain, “that's why I think Henrik needs to understand that a part of you did want him. I want him to know he was made out of something other than just some need to save the world.” Her throat tightened. “I want him to know he was loved before we ever even made him.”

“I am begging you to consider the idea that we destroy the dagger before you switch us back. You and I ensure that it is me who raises Henrik and is by your side through it all. Your uncle does not wish to be a father, and I imagine Henrik would feel his disdain if he takes anything after his mother.”

Hope paused, shock running all the way to her toes. Was this why he was treating her like he was an interested lover rather than her memory-less uncle with a plan? But then...he made really good points. She had to start thinking like a mom.

The thought sat heavy on her chest, she reminded him tightly, “if we destroy it, it might permanently get rid of Uncle Elijah.”

Elijah's fingers felt warm at the nape of her neck. He murmured, “I know that's hard for you, but we need to start thinking as parents. Your uncle isn't ready to do that yet and I imagine he never will be. Nothing seems to replace his love for your father. Not even his own son. Henrik deserves a real father, Hope.”

She didn't know how to respond. Her stupid anxiety rendered her nearly catatonic with racing thoughts and a hundred different scenarios of the most treacherous ideas. If she thought like a parent, Elijah was right. It would be the best thing for Henrik and it would be easy to pull off. It was likely they'd go forever without her parents even realizing it had happened. She'd taken enough of Uncle Elijah's memorable memories to give her Elijah a deep well of first hand knowledge to draw from.

“I'll think about it,” she finally murmured, trying to give her most earnest expression.

His eyes are calculating.“Perhaps you will have come to your decision by your birthday. Your first adult decision of many, I'm sure.”

He was good at phrasing things, and really good at timing. Hope recognized he was manipulating things a bit, but all of that aside, she really would consider his thoughts and ideas. He wasn't wrong, he was just wrong about her.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

 

* * *

 

“Does my morning routine interest you?” he asked her reflection in the mirror.

Hayley stood propped against the doorway in her night shirt and socks, grasping a mug of blood. Why her belly still did flips like some girl when he spoke to her in that tone, she'd never know. She'd never admit to it.

“You could say that...” Hayley drawled, taking another sip. The first blood of the day always zapped her with more energy than coffee ever could, but this old refrigerated stuff was too gross to chug down. It reminded her of that taste in the back of her throat she woke up with after a long night of partying in her teens. God, how did she even make it to adulthood?

As Hayley shook her head at her silent musings, Klaus leaned over the sink to get a better look at the spot he missed along his sharp jaw, dragging the razor in scratchy strokes. “Are the girls awake?”

Hayley shifted on her feet, eyes following the way he pat the familiar musky-sweet aftershave to his smoothed neck. Such an old guy thing to do. “I think Ada is working on her potions, the whole west wing reeks.”

She wondered, as he disheveled his hair into place with some goop that also smelled familiarly  _ him _ , if he had ever grown a viking beard like in the movies. She liked scruffy guys -maybe it was another wolf thing. Maybe he'd let her have another peek at his memories, pressing gentle fingers to her temples and sharing stories with her like Elijah did upon their first meeting.

It was kinda like watching movie scenes, but he'd only ever let her see one of Mikael, yanking away when she probed further. He didn't like her to see him like that; she suspected it was the same reason she never wanted him to see her suffering either -it showed weakness and vulnerability. Alphas inherently hid such things. Well, they were supposed to heal and become better because of past hardships. Hayley wasn't sure she was ever going to get there. But that overused phrase  _ fake it til you make it _ has worked pretty well so far.

She took the last gulp of blood, grimacing at the flavor of her stale, cold, breakfast.

“I guess I should get ready too,” Hayley mumbled reluctantly.

All she really wanted to do this morning was untie the towel wrapped around his waist and watch his face in the mirror as she took him in both hands. Hayley shook away the thought, really glad he couldn't read minds. The last time she'd been this amped up over a guy was within those first months after she triggered her curse. It had been worse than hitting puberty and discovering masturbation. It was like a constant undercurrent of want. And now, as two hybrids on a shared blood diet... it was like a raging river of need. She  _ needed _ his touch and scent and murmured words on her neck. She  _ needed _ the taste of his salty skin and swollen kiss much like she needed to breathe. Which was lame because she never  _ needed _ anything from anyone before.

Klaus flashed over, lips capturing hers in a crushing fervor. She startled and gasped into his minty mouth. She probably tasted like thin blood and morning breath.

Against the corner of her smile, he whispered, “you have got to stop distracting me...so much to do today, Little Wolf.”

“I'm just having breakfast,” she shrugged before peering up in that way she had perfected since learning how to flirt as a preteen.

He growled low and deep, her insides stabbing with a jolt of adrenaline at the sound. “You have no idea what it does to me when you look at me with those eyes...” he traced the arch of her brow with the pad of a finger, “...and as your heart speeds up, rushing blood...” Klaus traced along the slope of her nose, catching her lips before dropping his finger down below the elastic of her panties, “to all the swollen parts of you.”

His fingers inserted with no warning, moving erotically slow inside the length of her. Hayley's head fell back to the door frame with a thud, an embarrassing throaty moan escaping her parted lips. She didn't know why her first thought was always  _ I can't believe I'm doing this with him _ as if they were still just the Klaus and Hayley that avoided anything deeper than co parenting and family crises.

“I can scent the precise moment your body reacts around me...” he continued like a lullaby, tugging her eyes shut and contracting her insides around his long fingering strokes.

Were they crazy for keeping this up when pretty soon they'd be on opposite ends of a fight, hurting in unimaginable ways?

He plunged deeper, quickening, just enough to fill the room with the crinkling wet sounds of her arousal drenching his touch. The shaky gasps she tried to hide against his freshly shaven jaw shifted into audible moans, echoing off the tiled bathroom walls. Hayley remembered Rebekah once telling her over a glass of wine, that the best love was the crazy kind.

“Stop,” Hayley breathed, growing too close. He didn't.

His accent dripped like honey. “Why?”

She didn't know why. Maybe it felt too strong. Maybe it felt too good. Maybe it made her nervous while his probing eyes took in every expression of pleasure melting her face. There was no real reason...and she didn't really want him to stop.

Her insides clenched and dipped, an orgasm hinting as she built and built at his gliding and deep touch.

Then, he stopped. Just like that. Pulled away and thrust his drenched fingers into his mouth, making a show of relishing her taste. Her mouth parted in question, her body so close to exploding and everything pounding on fire.

“Oh come on...” she muttered when he smirked and walked backwards, licking at his fingers like they were covered in sweet glaze.

Hayley was about to launch herself at him -tackle him to the ground, ridding him of the towel and finishing the job herself. But. Her phone buzzed loudly from its perch on the dresser.

“You'd better get that...” he said in his teasingly seductive tone.

She shot him a look, stepping out of her drenched panties to toss at his face. As she exited the room to pluck her phone from its rattling path across his dresser, he brought the white cotton to his nose, inhaling deeply. God he was gross -and it turned her on like nothing else.

Vincent's name flashed across her screen. Maybe he had news about Mitch's progress with the newest slowing spell. He had survived much longer than they had expected, thanks to Hope's blood strengthening their work.

“Hello?” Her voice still sounded husky. She cleared her throat, tossing Klaus a look when he slid her a knowing grin.

Vincent let out a short huff, confirming her fears, “Mitch passed away this morning.” Hayley saw the look of concern cross Klaus's face, and could tell that her expression prompted him to flex his vampire hearing.

He listened in as Vincent continued, “we know now that with these potions, a wolf can survive the infection for roughly a month. Marcel gave me permission to test the same on a vampire. Speaking of, have you heard yet?”

“No, uh-” she cleared her throat again, closing her eyes. She wasn't looking forward to breaking it to the pack, especially Mitch's family “We'll be right there,” she stated, glancing at Klaus. He was already tugging on his charcoal jeans, wire hangers clacking from the closet.

Vincent stopped her from hanging up, quickly cutting in, “Kol has spread the infection. Wiped out a few of Marcel's girls and customers during a shared private blood feed. I told him a club like that would only bring problems... Marcel's got him, he's been trying to reach Klaus all morning. A few of the infected ran out before he got to them. This is bad, Hayley.”

Klaus exchanged a look as she stamped her thumb to hang up. He looked like he was in literal pain. She nodded, letting him know it was okay to leave her to the wolf duties while he dealt with Kol.

He touched her cheek briefly, “good luck, love,” and he flashed away.

“Yeah, you too...” she murmured to the empty room. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

 

The double doors flew open under Klaus's forceful palms as he shoved his way into the club. Nobody stopped him as he tore his way towards the private back room The dim lighting cast shadows across the sea of nervous patrons, music still pounding as if nothing had happened.

The room behind the curtain usually saw group parties daily. It was where stories of blood sharing with Marcel's girls were embellished with tales of orgies and drug use. The reputation the club spread about for itself was bringing in supernatural patrons from all over the world. In that sense, it was a success.

Klaus stepped inside with wrinkled nose. Gaudy carpets, pulsing magenta lights and air that reeked of blood, arousal, and the sickeningly sour scent of the infection; he felt disgusted. There was a stage in the middle of the room with a long pole situated atop a lit up platform. There, chained to the pole, sat Kol with a look of vacancy on his bloody face. The fool. Now Klaus would be forced to dagger and lock away both infection carrying brothers to appease the factions. Of that he was sure. And while Elijah brought more problems than assistance in these trying moments, it was still seared into the fabric of Klaus's being to lean on him in such times.

“What in the hell did you do?” Klaus seethed, glaring over clenched teeth.

Marcel laid a girl on the velvet couch-it was Cassandra, her fiery hair matted with blood. The girl was still alive, but she shook under a thick oily sheen and coughed up chunks of puss and flesh. Klaus nearly gagged while Kol merely looked on as if the situation bored him.

Marcel stated tensely, hand on Cassandra's forehead, “Vincent is going to see how long he can keep her alive, his guys are arriving now.” Then turning to Kol, Marcel said with anger booming in his tone, “why don't you tell him what happened.”

Kol shrugged, a look on his face that Klaus knew well. His younger brother was terrified and trying to cover it with the nonchalance of a serial killer. He knew he was doomed and wasn't going to make his punishment easy on anyone.

Not wanting to waste a moment, Klaus stomped forward, clutching either side of Kol's skull, prying with everything he had. He forced his way in, the memory playing out in flashes from Kol's point of view.

_ “Oh I want you to do more than spread your legs, darling. I want you to spread the infection.” _

Klaus probed deeper. Why did he want the infection spread?!

More flashes: a woman being taken by surprise. Madam's kin. Kol bit into her to view the vision, looking for Davina's fate. He was angered...no,  _ enraged, _ that Hope still could not resurrect his wife after all of his choices. He kills the seer, and in a fit of rage, tears into Cassandra.

Not only had his younger brother started a new spread of the infection, he had killed the seer -the only damn seer they could locate with strong ancestral links to the necklace. Klaus let go and let out a roar of anger, squeezing Kol's neck until it crunched and popped, head dropping at an odd angle.

As Klaus loomed over his brother's slack body, heaving with anger, Marcel's hand clasped his shoulder, squeezing. Klaus realized his fangs were extended; his eyes burned and pinched with a vampire's furious glare.

“You know he has to be put down for good.”

Klaus let out another roar, turning and slamming his fist through the wall. Several of Marcel's men took tentative steps back as pieces of brick flew like shrapnel. It all started building...everything he had been trying to detach from. Every single thing he had been fighting against and dying inside over. 

Nothing could stop him from tearing into the necks of Marcel's men. He was nothing but bared teeth and bulging veins, pulling the head off of another vampire. It kept coming  _ -fueling  _ his rage over Elijah compelling away his memories and running off to France; the pain of knowing his daughter suffered in his absence; the torturous images of Elijah's fangs buried inside of Hope; the absence and betrayal of both sisters; the anxiety of a deadly infection sweeping through the supernatural community.

“KLAUS! STOP,” Marcel's voice carried through the haze of splattering blood and crunching bones. The satisfying suctioning sound of skin and muscle tearing off limb by limb -Oh nothing could stop this now. It felt like power and control. It felt like all of the things he craved and needed. Far better than a hunt; this was a slaughter and he found himself grinning through every life fallen at his shaking hands.

He tore his way through the club, using tables and chairs he broke as stakes, people dropping in heaps all around. All he could feel was the crushing reality of living a life where his brother would lay with Klaus's own daughter -his little girl. Or death. He could simply put Elijah down right alongside Kol...dagger and cemented for all eternity...or until Klaus felt like digging them up again. The infection might take his life, but Hope would then never be forced to bring an abomination into this world.

Marcel flashed between Klaus's dripping hands and an oblivious customer just entering.

“STOP. Don't make me put you down too. _ ” _

For a moment Klaus took a breath, letting it out slowly, the rage settling into something satiating. He'd almost forgotten how cathartic mass murder could be. Seeing Marcel's shoulders relax, Klaus took advantage. Snapping his neck in a swift motion, Klaus stepped over his body and exited the club. 

  
  


* * *

 

 

Eric Bronston wept on his knees for his father. The sun bore down over the bayou as Mitch Bronston's body burned on the floating pyre. It was Hayley's duty as Alpha to say a few words; she had knots in her gut as she stood at the head of the dock.

The pack members’ faces stared solemnly back, squinting against mid-afternoon's harsh glare. Hayley opened her mouth to speak as several members gently led Eric to take a seat against a tree nearby.

Movement beyond the pack caught her eye. She clamped her mouth shut, eyes narrowing.  _ Is that Marcel? _

He's covered in blood and the expression he wore made her skin grow cold despite the searing sun. She knew Klaus had gone to see him, and now here he was covered in blood spatters with a look of determination.

Hayley glanced towards her second in command, motioning him forward. She whispered for him to take over, nodding towards Marcel hanging back in the treeline. The pack caught on, turning their heads and hushed murmuring littering the somber gathering. She weaved through them, cheeks flaming red in anger and fear. The pack already despised her link to the Mikaelson family, consistently claiming she chose the ancient vampires over her own pack.

“It's Klaus,” Marcel called as her boots kicked up dirt in her fast pace towards him. She's pouring sweat and heart thundering away as Hayley's fists clench so hard her nails pierce through skin.

He follows when she motions for him to step out of sight behind the pinewood cabin. Her breathing erratic, she asked quickly where Klaus was.

Marcel looked towards the sky as if summoning energy to reply. He stated thinly, “he just took out dozens of my men without a moment's pause. I ordered him to put Kol down after he killed your seer that arrived.”

“Where is he?!” Hayley's vision speckled and the need to run took over.

“I don't know. He snapped my neck and left nearly an hour ago. If I had to make a guess, he's going to make sure Elijah gets put down too.”

Hayley didn't wait for another word. She flashed away, panic seizing any sense of calm she had left in this situation.

She arrives at Elijah's apartments as quickly as hybrid speed would allow, tearing up the familiar flight of stairs. Inside the home she and Jack once called their own, stood Klaus. Elijah was backed to a wall and Hope stood between her father and uncle, hands up and readied with a look of wild fear.

In Klaus's grip was the silvery length of the white oak stake. He's covered in so much blood that she had scented him from the street. Elijah swallowed audibly, posture so rigid he looked almost unrecognizable.

“Stay back, Hayley.” Klaus rasped.

“N-No. Give me the stake,” she commanded in horror. Then to Hope she exclaimed, “go!  _ Now _ .”

Hope shook her head as Klaus took a step forward, replying softly, “I saw him get the stake from his safe. If he uses that on him, Uncle Elijah dies for good, right?”

“Listen to your mother, I do not wish to harm you,” Klaus instructed in a tone so eerily calm that Hayley's instincts screamed for her to intervene. He was going to kill Elijah, there was no hint of hesitance in his stature or his words.

“ _ Hope _ ,” Hayley called sharply, reaching for her. Her daughter, stubborn as always, shook her head with clenched teeth and raised her hands even more.

“I don't want to harm you either, Dad...”

Above all else, Hayley's mothering instincts roared the loudest. She flashed over, knocking Hope out of the way, taking her place. A bottle of scotch fell from the drink cart as Hope crashed into it, shards and the sharp scent of alcohol clouding the suffocating smells of fear and rage in the air.

The sound of Hope crying out in pain yanked Klaus's attention. Hayley took the opportunity to flash over and grab the stake just as Elijah sped forward to snap his neck. Hayley stood in frozen shock, the reality of her actions barely sinking in.

As if on cue, Marcel entered in a rush, skidding to a halt aside her. He must have followed Hayley from the bayou. She dropped the stake to her feet, the hollow clatter against hardwood echoing in the newfound silence. Hope's arm poured blood, she grasped it in her hand,lower lip quivering like it did when she got hurt as a toddler. A large shard of glass jutted out of her glossy crimson skin.

Before Hayley's brain started working with her body again, Elijah rushed to Hope's aid. Hayley watched on as he gently touched her cheek, giving her a reassuring nod before gripping the glass and plucking it free. He started to offer his wrist to Hope, the action snapping Hayley out of her stupor.

She practically knocked Elijah aside, biting into her own wrist to hold below Hope's parted lips. He took a step aside, seemingly understanding his overstepped boundaries. When Hope's wound began to heal, Hayley spun around to watch Marcel scoop up Klaus's lifeless body.

“I'll put him in the dungeon until he cools off. Hope, could you assist in spelling it securely?”

Hayley opened her mouth to protest, but then eyeing the crimson-smeared white oak stake, she clamped it back shut. Marcel was right. He needed to calm down and think logically. As much as they'd been through and as much that loomed ahead, Klaus didn't really want to kill Elijah. Not for good, anyway.

She trudged with unfocused eyes and a sweat soaked shirt, following Marcel in the quick walk across the street. Hayley barely remembered navigating the way into the underground tunnels that housed barred cages and bricked in tombs for those serving time. All she could focus on was the way Klaus's blood-caked fingers looked dangling from his arm in Marcel's grasp...the same fingers that had slipped inside her just this morning, now lifeless and painted beyond recognition.

Elijah stood next to her as the thick iron bars clanked closed. It would be where he lived on the full moon when the other Elijah took over. She looked up at him, how his eyes just settled on Klaus's soaked and slack body as if this situation were nothing. How was he so calm?

Hayley crossed her arms tightly turning her attention back towards the enclosure, biting her lip as Hope whispered an incantation that would strengthen the boundary spell. Klaus looked so peaceful laying there on the dirt floor, freshly shaven face smeared with red and expression serene.

A knot of guilt and sadness enveloped her and suddenly she couldn't stand the musty air and low ceilings any longer. Hayley turned on her heel, nearly knocking into Elijah as she speedily stalked back upstairs. She needed a drink and time to think.

“We need to talk later,” Marcel called in a booming echo. He added evenly, as she glanced over her shoulder, “ _ before _ you let him out.”

She didn't reply. Hayley had never felt more numb, or alone.

 

* * *

 

 

Klaus grasped the bars. He could hear them. Breathing...whispering...pacing. Would they let him out, or was he to scream like a crow through the night until they stampeded down here where he would most certainly tear into their throats? He would do it, for it did not matter if it was Elijah coming to have a chat or even Hayley to coax him into submission. He would grasp them by the neck and sink his teeth until they crumpled at his feet.

He huffed and shifts to the other wall. There is nothing in this world he abhors more than being trapped. In a coffin, a shallow grave, a Chambre de Chasse, or a spelled-off-dirty-musty  _ cage  _ designed for his enemies.

Cocking his head, he flexed his hearing. He would have to acquire a plumber to tend to the leak, he hadn't noticed it from upstairs but there was a very methodical  _ drip, drip _ near the kitchen.

The footsteps grew closer. Two people. The grated door squeaked open, dirt scuffled under the shuffling steps of Marcellus and Hayley. Neither looked particularly exuberant about their visit. He flashed them his best smile, nevertheless.

“You sure look cheerful for being such a bad boy,” Marcel scolded.

Klaus held up his hands and offered a weak shrug, “oops.”

Hayley approached from the far dark corner, arms crossed tightly over her leather jacket. She looked like an uncertain zoo animal, though he supposed she was on the wrong side of the bars for that. More like a timid member of PETA coming to tentatively free a tiger from its cage.

“Wipe that grin off your face. That was not okay, Klaus,” she chastised.

“Oh my...” he breathed, “you are quite fortunate to have caught me in such a bright mood. I will forgive you for trapping me like a bug you intend to squash once you've summoned the nerve.”

Hayley cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. That meant she was the sort of angry that required reflection before spilling a lecture from her pretty little mouth. He could hardly wait to hear what she would come up with...

She approached closely. Close enough he could reach out and snap her neck before her first words, surely she knew this. It was a gesture of trust. And that look on her face was most certainly in the vicinity of remorse. Little Wolf did not like caging him, which, as he suspected, warmed his heart just enough to peer into her eyes with sincerity.

This was why Marcellus invited her down here of course. To soften him up and then make sure he listened.

“Will you still be smiling when you go on another rampage like that and get yourself infected?” She made jabbing hand gestures, reminding him of the way Hope looked when she went on about something. A hand rested on her hip, as she asked with widened eyes, “will it be super funny to you when Hope hears of it and finds a way to spend the full moon with Elijah, all so she can save your idiot ass?”

Klaus felt that familiar jab of pain somewhere deep and tender. It was that spot inside where his worst fears lived. It was irresponsible to put himself at risk for such a tremendously unwelcome situation. If he could avoid the seer's promise that he would die of the infection if the child was not born, then there wouldn't be a need for such a betrayal.

Before he could respond, Marcellus took over sternly, voice booming in the cavernous underbelly of the sprawling home above. “You murdered my men. I'm down my best girl. I've got Kol who wants to wreak havoc on this town locked away like a ticking time bomb, daggered in a coffin I'm using as a coffee table. The  _ only _ reason I am letting you out is because I need your help finding the dagger that's no longer in your safe.

“ _ What? _ ” Klaus asked sharply.

“Vincent needs it to use as a power booster during the full moon. He hypothesizes that the energy and link to the event will strengthen his healing spell and buy Cassandra more time. I don't want to lose her, she's...she's a fighter you know?”

Looking at Hayley, Klaus stated in a loud whisper he hid behind his hand, “Marcel has a crush on his stripper.”

Marcel cut in dully, “I compelled Hope to tell me where it is and she said it was in your safe. That means she's not the one who took it. So I let you out, and you help me find it and you never go American Psycho on my people again. That's how this works.”

“Alright, alright, Marcellus. I shall play Nancy Drew with you so long as I get to take a bite out of whoever dared to steal from me.”

A stretch of silence settled between them. The  _ drip, drip _ boring through Klaus's skull. He would never let on how much being caged pained him. Later, he'd drink an extra blood bag and finish off the wine to bury the lingering anxiety of it all.

“Well,” Hayley announced lightly, “while you boys go play 'Mystery of the Missing Dagger' I will be with the Crescents. One of our pack members has decided it's time to challenge me for alpha.” Tossing Klaus a little wave she chirped wryly, “wish me luck.”

Klaus furrowed his brows. How dare they challenge the best alpha this city has ever seen.

“Hayley, wait,” he called out.

She turned slowly, arching a brow. He struggled with the anger. She was too soft on them, they should allow her the space needed to deal with personal matters. A pack was supposed to be as thick as family.

“You must frighten them. Make them fear the idea of ever challenging you again.”

Surprising him, she flashed over and tugged his face to the bars by the chin. He thought she was about to kiss him, but instead she brought her lips close, peering up with those large eyes. Even though he could snap her like a twig before she could blink, it was he that felt intimidated. It was the sign of a true leader; she was born with it and something deep inside him recognized it.

“They already fear me. That's why they want me gone.” She released his chin, taking a step back, “I'm going to stand down, they deserve better than what I can give right now.”

He bit his tongue. How could she not see that it was they that did not deserve her?

“Very well,” he rasped, tapping idly at a bar with his knuckle. It appeared she no longer sought his advice.

* * *

 

 

“I can't believe this is how I'm celebrating my first day as a legal adult,” Hope muttered, stabbing at her plate of lunch.

Ada snorted, “well you  _ could _ have picked somewhere that doesn't have things like lemongrass tofu on the menu.” She made a face at Hope, only to let out a hum of approval when the waiter refilled her wine glass. Hope picked places that didn't card her or that looked the other way when they did. Her last name came in handy in some areas.

“Oh please, as if you haven't hoovered down half of it already,” Hope rolled her eyes.

Ada shrugged, reaching over to scoop up a bite from Hope's plate. “People become far less picky when they're starving, you know.”

Tilting her face towards a pleasantly cool breeze, Hope stated glumly, “that's not why this birthday sucks anyway. Mom is so caught up in the pack hating her guts for neglecting her alpha duties, that I swear she forgot. Usually we at least get coffee together and I open a present from her.” Hope jutted out her lower lip for effect. “She didn't even wish me a happy birthday this morning.”

“She'll remember. They both will. And when they do, use their guilt to ask for something. Milk that shit,” Ada smiled around her fork.

Hope chuckled, settling back in her seat and stretching her legs out under the table. She and Ada had decided to go out to eat for Hope's birthday, choosing  _ The Green Goddess _ in the French Quarter. They sat outside at one of the small wooden cafe-style tables that overlooked a crowded alleyway. Hope liked to people watch to get her mind off of things; her nerves were shot and her mood was seriously the pits.

Marcel tried to compel her again after her dad got himself into trouble. He needed to know where the dagger was and Hope didn't know how to ask him why he needed it without letting on she couldn't be compelled by him. It was an advantage she wanted to hold on to. But him looking for it meant Hope had even less time to make a decision about destroying the dagger so that her Elijah could raise Henrik.

On top of that, her dad was still angry for being locked up for so many days. But, the time had done the situation good -sort of. He was less angry at least and no longer out for blood. Elijah had done his best work in talking with both Klaus and Marcel about why it was better that he's not staked or daggered for the remainder of all time. Hope had to hand it to him, he had a way of talking to people. Including herself.

She bit her lip and hid a smile as her phone buzzed again. She and Elijah had been texting a lot lately, discussing Henrik and each other. He was kind and attentive, even texting her every evening this week to wish her a goodnight. Her rising panic and anxieties were dwindling because he made her feel less alone in them. He made her feel understood and safe.

Ada's voice yanked her attention away from the glowing phone. “Oh my god Hope, you get the dorkiest face when you text him. I'm seriously starting to question all of this.”

“Stop, it's fine. We're just trying to make this less awkward,” Hope shrugged, peering closer at her phone as she texted a reply.

Ada shifted uncomfortably. “He's still your uncle...you know?” She peered at Hope anxiously. Ada hated discussing the topic just as much as Hope did. It was better when they just didn't do much talking about it at all.

Hope used her rather weak argument, she knew this. But it was all she had and her mind was made up. She was bringing her son home. “You do know he's only my half uncle  _ and _ back in his day it was completely normal and common for unions like this to happen. They were arranged all the time.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“Well, yeah.” Hope paused, flagging down the waiter with a wave. “Anyway, it's fine. Once this is all over, things will go like they're supposed to go. We'll co-parent Henrik within the boundaries of uncle and niece and heal tons of people from imminent death.”

“Yeah but...”

Hope tried not to sound as irritated as she felt. “What, Ada?” She failed.

Ada noticed, Hope saw it flash in her eyes. Her friend reached for her hand, squeezing gently. “You are going to have to switch back their consciousnesses after. What happens when Uncle Elijah finds out he's a father?”

Hope's gaze faltered, dropping to the napkin crumpled in her lap. She pulled away, busying herself with tossing the napkin to her plate and glancing towards a group of girls walking by. They were laughing and enjoying the day. Bitches.

She glanced back at her friend, deep in thought. Ada didn't know that Henry might be out there and that the only way to get him back was to agree to keep the Elijah's as they were and destroying the dagger. Uncle Elijah might not just be confined to full moons -he might disappear altogether. Sooner or later, she was going to have to fess up to Ada about Henry and the deal she'd have to make with Elijah to get him back.

Shrugging away the realization, Hope replied after a sip of wine, “he'll be a good father once he gets used to it all. I'm not worried.” She was lying hard but Ada didn't seem to notice.

“It just seems like you're getting a little attached. I worry about you.”

Hope tucked a wad of money under the pepper shaker and stood with a stretch. “I know. You're so good to me, Ada. The best friend I could ever ask for.” She laced her fingers into Ada's and tugged her into the busy street.

Ada swung their hands together as they maneuvered through the crowd, saying brightly, “let's go back to your room, get really drunk, and listen to all your aunt's old records. It'll pass the time and your parents can't get mad, because they forgot your birthday.”

“A best friend with all the best ideas. Let's do it.”

They window shopped on their walk home, pretending for a little while that they were just two normal tourist girls. Ada bought her a crop shirt that said  _ drink up, witches  _ and Hope tugged it over her sundress with a laugh. Once they arrived home, they darted inside and grabbed her father's best bourbon on their way to her room.

Maybe it was the alcohol that pushed Hope towards honesty. Or maybe it was the way the room felt bathed in fairy lights and filled with the scratchy Jim Croce record spinning on the old turntable. But she couldn't hold on to this any longer.

“Hey, come here,” Hope patted the spot aside her on the faux-fur rug that took up half her dusty floor.

Ada danced through each step she took, causing Hope to giggle in spite of her nervousness.

“What's up?” Ada asked as she plopped down, dropping her head onto Hope's lap.

“No, sit up,” Hope urged, motioning with her hands.

She obeyed, furrowing her dark brows and tucking her legs beneath her. After Hope turned down the record with magic, she started looking everywhere but at Ada. This was hard. Even drunk as a skunk, this was hard.

“Spit it out Mikaelson.”

Hope blurted out in a cloud of pent up alcohol breath, “Henry might be alive. Actually, I've been assured that he is.”

Her best friend didn't answer. She didn't even move a muscle. It was like Hope's statement had frozen her in place.

Finally, Ada swallowed hard, replying in a weird tone, “what do you mean? Where is he then?”

Hope took Ada's hands in her own, gently running her fingers absently over the chunky rings she always wore. “Elijah told me that he found him in transition in the woods. He helped Henry find human blood and turned him. He's keeping him somewhere.”

Ada stood, her face flaming, “what do you mean  _ keeping him _ ?! Like a hostage?!”

Hope shook her head, “Elijah just wants to make a deal. He promised that Henry has been safe and well taken care of.”

“ _ Hope _ do you hear yourself? What sort of person keeps someone else hostage just to get what they want?”

Hope raised her hands cautiously, “listen, I know it sounds that way but think of it from Elijah's point of view. He saw an opportunity and took it. He just wants to make sure he's the one raising Henrik.”

Ada swept her hair from her face, leaving her hands atop her head like she was about to flip out. “What do we have to do to get my dad back?”

“I need the dagger. If I destroy it, Elijah will be the one in control each month so he has more time with Henrik. Uncle Elijah, if his consciousness survives it, will belong to full moons only.”

“You're telling me that the only way to get my dad back is to get rid of your uncle for good?”

Hope nodded, reaching for Ada's hands again. They were so cold. “Yeah...it doesn't feel good weighing these options. I know he can be kind of an ass towards me, but I do love my uncle. I have fond memories of him and my mom from when I was a kid and things were still good, you know? And I know what he means to my dad...it's just hard.”

“What happens when Klaus finds out, though? What if he hurts my dad out of anger?”

Hope shrugged, pursing her lips.“I don't even have the dagger anymore. Getting it back could be really hard and could take some time.”

“I have something to tell you too...” Ada admitted, “when Klaus came to get the white oak stake and everyone rushed over to Elijah's...I sort of took advantage of the safe being left open.”

Hope perked up. “You have the dagger?”

“Yeah.”

She threw her arms around Ada, exclaiming dizzily through the alcohol, “you're brilliant. Now, if we decide to trade the dagger for Henry, we have the upper hand on the full moon.”

“I was thinking...” Ada tapped her chin, “I need to try out my newest love potion before selling it. Think your mom and dad would leave you plenty of time with Elijah if they were busy boning for hours?”

“Have I ever told you that you are seriously the smartest, prettiest, bestest friend anyone could ask for?” Hope hiccuped, tasting the fiery bourbon on the back of her tongue. Then, scratching her head absently in thought, she asked, “do you think they'll know something is up though? I hate to bring you into all of this, Ada. You have done so much for me as it is and I know my dad can be scary when he's mad...”

Ada waved her hand, eyes sparkling with mischief. “They won't have a clue, I can dump it into that blood pitcher they drink from at dinner each night. With the way they're at each other's throats lately, the make up sex will seem extra phenomenal, that's all!”

“You are seriously the best.”

Ada grinned, offering a clumsy high five, “lets get my dad back.”

Hope tried to stand, only to sway back to her knees. “After we sober up,” she declared with a short nod.

“Absolutely.”

* * *

 

“I feel awful,” Hayley said for the millionth time that day, burying her face in her hands.

“She's fine, look at her,” Klaus repeated, gesturing towards the head of the table, where Hope opened another gift. His littlest wolf was the picture of happiness in her thousand dollar earrings.

After both he and Hayley remembered they had done nothing to celebrate with Hope on her eighteenth birthday, they arranged a small dinner the following night at home, complete with a pile of expensive gifts and a catered meal from a five star vegan restaurant.

With reports of the infection taking the lives of dozens in Louisiana, and hundreds across the country, the Mikaelson family was keeping close to home. Marcel, entirely unhappy with Klaus's murder spree, agreed to put things aside as they rode the remainder of this out. Truly, Marcellus looked far more distraught over the infection's rising death count than Klaus could manage to feel. He'd faced many trying things in this long and sometimes torturous life. This infection was just another obstacle and without a proper seer, he found it hard to believe he'd succumb to it at all.

Though, Hayley had given him an earful through the bars the night she released him after relinquishing her alpha status. He did not blame her for the anger or rage, he knew it needed to be expelled and he could certainly handle the dose.

She'd said as she paced the dirt floor, repeating words already spoken, “how could you be so stupid? You could have bitten an infected vampire during your little killing spree. You can't risk your life like that. You can't leave me alone with all of this. We're a team, and like it or not, we've been a team since you knocked me up.” She’d stopped in front of him, gesturing with both hands, “you don't let down your team!”

Now she sat with her hand grasping his under the table with an enormous amount of motherly-guilt. Hope had been so forgiving and nonchalant about the ordeal, though he admittedly had his own amount of guilt to combat. Not even picking out a slew of gifts fit for a princess helped ease it. He'd already missed so many of her birthdays, and this was the first he'd spend with her in quite some time.

“Thank you Dad,” Hope smiled over her glass of wine. She looked positively radiant weighted down with sparkling jewels and a pile of all the latest gadgets young people tended to need. She and Ada played with her new cell phone while dessert was served.

Their nightly pitcher of blood was delivered warm. Klaus looked on as Hayley drank it in gulps. He, however, was quite full from sneaking a feed off of a tourist earlier. He was a touch angry about being locked away after his little tantrum at Marcel's club, and needed to hunt and feed. And sometimes, breaking the rules and keeping secrets was a pleasantly satiating way to get back at loved ones. What one doesn’t know can’t hurt them. Though, he was old enough to know that was never entirely true.

Hope thanked everyone for their generous gifts, her cheeks flushed with too much wine and eyes bright with happiness as she and Ada linked arms to skip upstairs. She truly was happier since Ada moved in. He felt he deserved a good pat on the back for that parental move.

“Hey...” Hayley murmured.

They were the last two left in the dining room now, Elijah curtly nodding before returning to his apartments as the girls thundered up the stairs. Klaus knew that expression.

“Yes, love?”

There had been many women in Klaus's life that stirred something deep within. Each one, different from the last. Something about Hayley Marshall had always tugged at parts he usually ignored or neglected. 

Hayley leaned forward, a wolfish grin dancing on her pretty lips, “want to go to bed?”

He let her tug him by the fingertips up the stairs, his gaze catching on the sharp lines of her birthmark peeking from her sleeveless blouse. She turned once entering his room, walking backwards and pulling him by the collar. This reminded him of the night he met her and she'd been so forceful, yet willing. 

Their tongues tangled together and he could hardly believe they'd made it here. Together, like this.

It took a great deal of reflection after she showed up with his child growing inside her young and strong body, to understand the importance of bonding with another outside of his siblings. Oh, he'd tried with many lovers before. Specifically Caroline. The beautiful blonde that he made blush despite her disdain in his character. Her youthful innocence mixed with that defiant spunk... he enjoyed the hunt that was his short lived pursual of Caroline Forbes. The part of him that needed a pure and innocent love thrived under his attempts to win her affections. But, that had been his vampire side -the monster in need of reminding to be good.

Hayley suckled at his lower lip, murmuring in the sexiest purr he'd heard come out of her yet, “where are you?”

“Right here,” he lied, still lost in his thoughts, though his body took over for the time being. He placed small kisses near her ear, knowing she couldn't stand that she liked how it tickled.

As time would reveal, that innocence he lost so young could not be found in another. Hayley had been hot and cold, abrasively so...standing there in her cowgirl boots and a look she likely perfected much younger than he cared to know. She had been incredible in bed and that was all he allowed himself to view the one night stand. He could have offered to help her find her family after noticing her Crescent wolf birthmark, but wolf business rarely interested him. And when it did, the pursuit of creating hybrids to fill the void of being an inherent alpha who never quite belonged to a pack...well, once again the gaping holes in his heart could not be filled. His wolf side had always been a dead end street. 

“Stop, it tickles,” her breath hitched, a shudder bringing her body closer to his. He still found it strange how perfectly she fit against the curves of his body. It was satisfying each time he wrapped his arms around her small but sturdy frame.

“But I must kiss all of you,” he reminds her, reaching behind her for the matchbook.

Plucking them from his hand, Hayley tossed them aside, stating, “no time for candles.”

“What's the rush?” he asked, stooping to retrieve the matches. They were from his favorite jazz club that closed some time ago. He slipped them into his drawer, the old pine smell invading his senses.

“I want to get to the parts that feel the best sooner, rather than later. That okay?” It didn't sound like she cared if it wasn't.

“Of course,” he nodded, pulling his phone from his back pocket to toss into the old brass bowl that housed things such as his old coins and various rings he'd accumulated from kings and warriors through the centuries.  _ The viking never quite dies does he?,  _ Elijah would ask. It is true of them all that they collect their spoils at the end of battles big and small.

Hayley, drawn to the reverberating clatter, picked up a ring he had plucked from the lifeless finger of a duke.

Klaus often wondered what would have transpired if he had accompanied her to New Orleans. Perhaps the news of her pregnancy would not have come across as a scheme to overthrow him, playing on his raw weakness of needing to belong and be unconditionally loved.

If only he had not turned away from the wolf side begging to be spared from his centuries long neglect. If only he had seen Hayley's rough and hardened exterior as something that lived within himself and worked together at breaking down the protective walls they each fortressed themselves inside.

There was something tragic in the way they had already rejected each other before either could give any of it a fighting chance.

Her voice yanked him out of his internal turmoil. “You are so goddamn sexy,” she breathed, tangling her fingers into his hair. Her eyes roved all over his face, her expression intense.

Surprised, but flattered of course, Klaus replied, “well so are you, love.” He spun her around for effect, pulling her close for a dance to the slow song blaring from Hope's room.

He let out a yelp and widened his eyes as her hand shot out to cup the growing bulge in his pants. Her lips crushed his parted mouth, their teeth crashing painfully. He tasted blood. Hayley's fingers are working the button of his jeans and the sharp crawl of his zipper sounded out over her soft panting breaths. She was far more worked up than he presently, but he was not one to deny her.

Gently tugging Hayley back to peer down at her flushed face, he murmured, “shouldn't we close the door before you let him out to play?”

Hayley shook her head, freeing him from his jeans that sat low on his thighs now. She dropped to her knees and took him full-lengthed into her mouth. The moan that erupted from his throat was loud enough to alert Bruno from down the hall. The dog entered the room, sitting in the doorway with ears perked, eyes following Hayley's practiced movements. Naturally, it felt far too good to stop, so with glowing amber eyes and bared teeth, he scared the animal away.

“The...” he swallowed hard, a moan interrupting his words, “-door,” he rasped.

Her tongue did something to the tip of him before she stood. Her lips swollen and a deep red, he twitched at the sight of her. The way she looked at him sometimes...

His eyes drifted to the way her toned legs looked in that little skirt as she slinked towards the door to swing it shut.

“There was a time when you were pregnant that I really started kicking myself,” he admitted as she started shedding her clothing in exaggerated movements. She was a queen, he ached for her.

Hayley winced, as if a painful memory crossed her mind. “Do you realize how horrible those pregnancy hormones were? I was so turned on at absolutely nothing. On a full moon it got so bad I almost went to you because I didn't want to ask Elijah,” She informed with an arched brow. Her bare breasts bounced from the lacy bra's release. It fell to her feet from her dangling fingers.

Klaus was surprised by her admission. It certainly wasn't like her to talk about the past in this way... He could hardly believe she'd said it.

“What's worse..” she continued, shimmying out of her skirt and kicking it aside, “is that night after I helped Kayla when we were on the run from your enemies -”

He quickly reminded her, “we disappeared. I do not run.”

Hayley rolled her eyes, her fingers tracing the underside of her breasts, “being away from home and seeing some of the old pack...being upset over Jackson...I almost came to you again. In the hotel that night while Hope slept.”

Klaus's brows shot up. What in the world has gotten into her? He was more surprised in her sharing these moments rather than the fact that they existed at all. They simply never spoke of the past, not in depth.

His eyes fell to the way her fingers dropped to the elastic of her panties, hooking into the sides and tugging. She let them fall near her bra, turning to lock the door...and to give him an eyeful of the most perfectly formed ass he'd ever had the pleasure of viewing.

Klaus flashed over before she turned, cusping her buttocks and kissing her warm neck. Her pulse thrummed deliciously against his damp lips. She made a tiny moan as his palms explored the pliant flesh.

Hayley whispered, hands splayed against the door, “What would you have done if I had?”

Klaus took his time answering, not sure if she wanted the truth or a delectable lie to make her cum harder. Truth was, he would have turned her away both times. The first out of fear, the second after loyalty and care.

“Well I would have fucked you silly, of course,” he drawled near her ear, not wanting to let go of the way she felt in his hands, lower back arching herself into his kneading touch.

Hayley spun around, his fingers running angry marks in their grasp. “Liar,” she nipped at his lower lip.

She knew as well as he that he wouldn't have done that to Elijah or Camille. Hayley had stopped herself for those very reasons, he was sure. Perhaps what she didn't realize was that he would have thought of her needs in those situations as well. Her pain of losing Jackson was no reason to pursue another one night stand they'd later regret after it inevitably bit them in the ass, as such things tended to go.

“Take off your clothes,” she demanded lightly.

Klaus grasped a nipple between forefinger and thumb, tugging purposefully too hard. He didn't like how demanding she was tonight. He wanted the candles and time to think.

She winced but the sound that escaped her parted lips let him know it was okay. Then, he stepped back, keeping his eyes on hers as he tugged off the remainder of his clothing.

“Out of all the men I've ever slept with...it was you that knew my body the best. You fit the best. You have always known what I've needed.”

Again, Klaus was confused by her honesty. Was she feeling guilty about locking him away? Did she fear losing him after time ran them closer to the inevitable? He had been doing his best at avoiding how this will all end. Loss was coming, and it made him teeter on the edge every waking moment. Perhaps that was her problem, she was losing it and losing her inhibitions.

“Hayley,” he began gently, grasping her by the wrists before she could clutch his face. When he was certain he had her attention, he continued lowly, “I do not care for the past. There is too much of it for me, you see.” Being over a thousand years old was a burden, not a triumph. She would come to find that out.

“One night,” she went on as if she hadn't heard, “after I turned...-”

He pressed another kiss with force, smothering her words and stealing her breath. When would she learn to listen?

Klaus's fingers tangled through her hair, breaking the kiss and pressing his forehead to hers. “Please stop,” he whispered, curling his fingers behind each of her cold ears. She needed a better feed. She needed fresh blood, the same as he had been sneaking since his release.

“I want you to know all of me,” she admitted with hooded eyes and a whispery tone. His breath hitches as she grasped him at the base, squeezing gently. Hayley added with a fire that rivaled his most precious past lovers, “and I want to know all of you...”

Klaus could no longer handle this strange detour in their usual pursual of intimacy. He forcefully launched her onto the bed, grasping her by the ankles and tugging roughly to the end of it. He dropped to his knees and made  _ sure _ she'd stop talking. Nothing felt off limits after all of her tumbling confessions. He nipped and lapped, bringing her close too many times to count. Eventually, her words no longer made sense.

He prowled up her body, licking her taste from his lips as the bed dipped all around them. Hayley pushed up just enough to bite his nipple far harder than he'd handled hers. The pain triggered a glow to his eyes and a guttural growl.

“There he is...” she drawled in that same tone she used the night they met. 

He lost himself in it all. Klaus let the wolf out to play, he realized. Amber eyes and gnashing teeth; fingernails clawing into skin... The headboard was broken down the middle and the mirror in the bathroom now reduced to shards emptying all the way to the hardwoods. Hayley's cries and commands and groans and moans and sighs and mumbled admissions of love coursed through every nerve ending...he spilled inside her relentlessly atop his now bare dresser top, dozens of antique rings rolling and clattering across his floor.

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay,” Hope began tentatively, reaching into her oversized shoulder bag. “Please don't think I'm a total dork, but I brought a few witchy things to help.”

Elijah had been waiting at the hotel for her since nine, but she couldn't slip away until her parents locked themselves in their room. Hope and Ada had widened their eyes at the sounds coming from behind the thick door, clutching each other in humorous horror from the hallway. She kind of wanted to give Ada's potion a try sometime...

Hope pulled out several bunches of dried herbs and a few stones and crystals, setting them up around the room. She explained softly, “I read in your mother's grimoire about all of these helpful ways witches can boost fertility and create an atmosphere to optimize conception.” Hope knelt down to slide a crystal under the bed, continuing, “and since Esther had tons of kids, I guess this all worked.”

“Marvelous,” he nodded with a faint smile, “I appreciate the thoroughness.”

Hope lit the tall jasmine and sage infused candle with her magic, stepping back to stand beside him, surveying her work. The luxurious hotel suite was starting to look more like her old school's incantation and potions room. It smelled like it too, with all the competing scents of burning herbs and flickering candles.

With her magic, she cracked all the windows and blew a light breath. All of the smoke that had started to accumulate like fog over their heads began to rush out as if she had blown with all her might. Elemental magic was so easy since becoming a triple goddess.

“And what's this here?” Elijah stood near the bubbling liquid.

“That's just a basic mixture of rose oil, white tea, and calamus root. It's supposed to help with human connection, it's really helpful with married couples having trouble conceiving because it takes some pressure off. It helps you connect on a deeper level with your partner.” She bit her lip and added, “if that's okay, I mean. It's not intrusive or anything like with the calamus flower, it's just calming like alcohol but less sloppy.”

“Yes, of course. Something to take the edge off sounds appealing.”

She smiled brightly, feeling pretty proud of the set up. It felt good doing magic again. She missed her classes whether she admitted it or not. She missed Aunt Freya's lessons and all the late nights they'd perfect a hard spell while her mom traveled to deal with pack business. She missed both of her aunts desperately. Knowing Henrik was with them gave her peace, though. Soon enough, they'd all come home.

Elijah's unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt as he asked, “is there anything you wish to discuss before we begin? Any concerns?”

Hope wondered how he was so calm about this. She guessed it was because she was just some young girl to him, while she had a lot of memories and emotions tied up into her uncle. Her uncle, who made it really clear that she wouldn't be forgiven for doing this against his wishes.

“Um...” she pondered softly, taking a seat on the bed.

“I imagine this must be much more difficult for you than I,” he spoke from behind her. She shivered as his fingers rested lightly at her shoulders.

She shook her head, avoiding eye contact. The weirdness of the situation was creeping in, only reminding her that the calming liquid simmering on the nightstand would help with that.

“I'm a little nervous. It's different talking about it...actually  _ doing _ this seems...”

“Show me Henrik again,” Elijah suggested, approaching her side of the bed.

It was a good idea, because as soon as they shared the image of him, a determination filled all the uncertain spaces.

She poured them both a cup of her brew, sipping it down quickly. The effects trickled in immediately; Hope felt a calm drape over her like a fuzzy blanket. And looking at him...it was less like looking at her stern uncle and more like looking at a friend. That's what they were now, she felt. Friends. He'd been so supportive and kind with the texting and secretive smiles and hand squeezes he'd risk around her parents. It was like they already shared something intimate. And if she didn't think too hard about it all, he was a good looking man. Like,  _ really _ good looking.

They sat side by side on the bed, Hope racking her brain for what to do to get this going. It's like she forgot how to initiate sex. Luckily, he made it easier, taking her hand in his and tugging her closer. She knew they didn't have a ton of time. Her parents might be hyper-focused on one another for now, but it wouldn't go on all night.

“When we start...um, I was born with healing abilities so even though I've had sex before, I heal after so...”

“I see. I will be gentle regardless.” Sucking in a breath and with real sincerity she could both hear and feel, he told her, “Hope, I do not wish for this to be an unpleasant experience for you. I imagine me being your uncle is...” He made a gesture as if mentally rummaging through the correct words, “less than desirable.”

She let out a soft chuckle, shrugging. “Yeah, I don't know. It doesn't bother me as much as it should I guess. Maybe because you seem so different than my uncle. You look at me differently, and feel good things when you're near me, not bad.”

“Is he unkind to you?”

“No, but it's like he doesn't even want to get to know me. I get that it's because of my parents and everything that's happened, but I don't know. I think I'm just extra sensitive to that sort of thing.”

Elijah tucked a strand of her hair behind an ear, murmuring, “I would very much like to get to know you.”

“Yeah?” Hope blinked in surprise.

His answer was a light kiss to her knuckles. She smiled, leaning into him.

Outside the door, a child shouted down the hall, yanking Hope's attention. When she glanced back, Elijah's lips lowered to hers, taking her by surprise. Kissing was a good start. And Elijah...well, he was a good kisser. Soft and warm...gentle. She got lost in it, barely noticing his fingers sliding the straps of her dress off her shoulders. She could taste the rose oil on his tongue from the calming potion and wondered if he could feel how hard her heart pounded.

With his finger and thumb gently grasping her chin, he stated whisper-soft, “you have the most exquisite lips.” He placed another kiss, continuing in that tone that sent shivers down her spine, “soft and sweet.”

Hope kissed him back, closing her eyes and trying to get lost in the sensation rather than the realization that she was a willing participant in this betrayal. She needed to do what he said and think of him as  _ her _ Elijah. Not her uncle. This was someone else and he was going to help her bring her son home. This was important.

They worked each other out of their clothes in between searing kisses and teasing tongues. Her body was familiar with the process, reacting in eager pulsing rolls of desire. It was different than with Henry. He had always wanted her to take control, watching her bring herself close before climbing into his readied lap. He told her he liked watching her expression when she shuddered atop him at the end.

Elijah took control here, tossing pillows out of the way so that he could push her into the mattress with only his seductive kisses and gentle roving palms. She laid beneath him, completely bare and thrumming in anticipation. For a moment, she wondered if being a triple goddess would make this feel any different. She hadn't had sex since returning to this life and so far...everything felt heightened and almost  _ too _ intense.

“May I?,” he uttered from where his lips hovered over her hardened nipples. She hated her breasts. Hated how large and heavy they'd grown to be. Ada could wear any shirt she wanted, but Hope had always shied away from anything that accentuated her chest.

She nodded, biting her lip and wriggling beneath him. Her body demanded more but something kept her planted; still and wanton beneath him. Her small gasp of pleasure rolled into a series of moaning sighs as he took a nipple between his teeth, cupping a hand over her other breast. Hope didn't know what exactly he was doing that made it feel so... _ goddamn good _ .

When he stopped, her nipple slipped wetly from his swollen lips before he pressed a kiss to her forehead. Against her skin he stated, “usually I would put a little more effort into foreplay, but it seems you and I are quite ready to begin.”

Hope nodded again, seemingly forgetting the English language. She didn't know what to do with her hands as he gently slid a hand under her buttocks, tilting her entrance towards him. She glanced down, taking the sight of him in for the first time. He wasn't huge or anything, but bigger than Henry in thickness. She shouldn't have looked. Now any time she was around Uncle Elijah, she'd be thinking about how she knew exactly what his dick looks like. Hope suppressed a nervous giggle, clamping her mouth shut.

Elijah peered down, “let me know if I need to change anything I'm doing. I do not wish to cause you any discomfort.”

Another nod and she glanced away. A part of her felt horrible about this. She wished she could shut it off. Though, she deserved a little pain, didn’t she.

He pushed inside expertly. It didn't hurt too bad, only stung and burned as her healed skin made room for him. Within seconds, the uncomfortable sensation was replaced with a deep pitted jolt of pleasure. God, she loved that feeling. Adrenaline and dopamine hitting her all at once in her gut as he slid inside with erotic rolls of his hips.

He was good at this, though she wasn't surprised. His body had a lot of practice compared to most. She found herself shifting into autopilot, kissing him back and raking her nails down his back, matching his tempo of toe-curling thrusts. She forgot how to be quiet, and it seemed he did as well. Everything else melted away. Their skin became slick with sweat and everything tasted like desire. She'd never felt so high.

It wasn't until her flipped her to her belly suddenly that she got close to letting go. He pushed inside with a hand wrapped under her, his fingers finding that spot buried in a tuft of her hair between her thighs. His teeth and lips are all over her shoulder and back, biting and nipping.

She cried out, a forceful orgasm taking her by surprise. The sheets gripped in fistfuls, she gasped and panted through the deepest climax of her young life. She had barely finished before he flipped her back around, plunging right back in. He wasn't far behind, spilling in strong sharp thrusts, emptying inside her relentlessly. His moans mixed with hers until he crumpled, a crushing weight as they fought for breath.

He shifted atop her, Hope's body still jolting with waves of waning pleasure beneath him. “You are such a sweet lover,” he murmured, cupping her chin and placing a warm kiss near her mouth.

Pulling gently free from between her shivering thighs, he rolled to his back, letting out a deep exhale. She couldn’t help it, but her eyes flicked to his exposed flesh. Thumping and wet with blood tinged arousal and maybe even a little bit of his own release. His hands rest lifelessly at his sides, eventually bringing one up to lightly fall over his head. Hope tucked herself under the sheets, rolling to face away from him. She was so tired, she wished she could sleep here beside him all night.

“What's the matter?” he asked softly, touching her arm. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, it never hurt,” she assured him, reaching to rest her sweaty palm on his wrist. “Thank you,” she added. He had really made the entire experience feel safe and loving. 

Elijah squeezed her arm once before sliding out of bed. “Can I get you something? Water? Food?”

Hope shook her head, wishing she could get up and go to the bathroom, but earlier, Google had informed her that laying down a while after improves conception chances. He walked around, her eyes tracing the bare lines of his lean muscular body, locking on to his gaze when he knelt by the bed to peer into her sleepy eyes.

“Don't brush off your feelings, Hope,” he urged gently, resting his chin on his propped arms. “Talk to me.” He really was so kind to her. If Uncle Elijah was as attentive as this Elijah, she'd have a hell of a lot more trouble destroying the dagger.

Hope decided it wouldn't hurt to talk about what was spinning through her mind now that they had finally made steps towards bringing Henrik into the world. “How will we protect him once he's born? What if my father tries to take him from us?”

Elijah stood, and she noticed the blood again. Being a forever virgin used to bother her, but she'd come to like the pain associated with losing it every time she had sex. She watched the way he walked with such elegant confidence. It reminded her of her uncle.

He entered the bathroom, the sound of a bath being drawn covering the noisy nightlife beyond the cracked windows. She called, “what if he is so angry with us that he takes it out on Henrik?”

Elijah's voice sounded deeper coming from the tiled bathroom. “You are the most powerful witch in the world, are you not? We will not allow harm to come to him.”

“What if they never forgive me?”

The sound of rushing bathwater filling the tub muffled his words. “It will no longer matter the moment you become a mother. Your focus will change.”

She knew he was right, her heart was already invested in her son. Her phone buzzed from the nightstand and she pushed up to grab it. She'd probably laid there long enough. If it didn't work, they'd just try again until it did.

It was Ada texting about her parents.

**They are still going at it. You have at least an hour** .  **I think they broke a window or something.**

Elijah called for her from the bathroom. Hope sent a quick eggplant emoji before setting her phone back down and slipping out of bed. She knew she just had sex with him and everything, but it was still kind of weird walking around naked in front of him, so she stood with her head poking inside, hiding the rest of her behind the ajar door. He'd seen so many beautiful women in his memory-less life alone. Hope was sure she wasn't nearly as attractive as what he preferred.

“Come here,” he beckoned. He's lounging in the tub, fragrant bubbles piled to the brim.

Hope obeyed, the door creaking open as she slowly approached under his dark and watchful eyes. He must have sensed her unease because he sunk down, dangling his arms along the sides of the porcelain, resting his head with eyes closed. Hope took the opportunity to slip into the water, keeping her knees bent close to her chest as she sat on her end of the claw-foot tub. The water sloshed over the lip, the foamy bubbles popping and crackling like a bowl of rice crispies.

“I do adore a good soak,” he admitted, his adam's apple bobbing along his extended neck.

For a second, she thought about the time Uncle Elijah would run her bubble baths when she was a little kid. He didn't skimp on the bubbles. Thinking of him only triggered a blast of anxiety. He's going to be so mad at her for going through with all of this. The short lived bond as uncle and niece would crumble the moment he finds out.

Hope straightened her legs until she felt her toes bump into his thigh, jerking away as soon as contact was made. She bit her lip, peering at him as he lifted his gaze to hers. It felt like she was stuck in this limbo where she felt connected sexually to a person she simultaneously felt a familial connection to.

His hand dipped into the water to grasp her ankle, tugging her foot to rest on his chest. His thumb kneaded into her arch, instantly sending chills up her spine.

“Do you have an answer for me, concerning your lover Henry?” Elijah implored lightly.

Hope felt herself nodding slowly. If she destroyed the dagger, she would never have to face Uncle Elijah again. At least not very often. Henrik would have a father that wants him and could help protect him. Ada could have Henry back. Her best friend didn't know that Hope could hear her sniffles at night. The grief was still so strong.

“I will destroy the dagger on the full moon, and you will tell me where Henry is. Right?”

“Yes. Very good, Hope. Henrik is lucky to have you as a mother.”

Hope felt herself warm at the praise. This was for the best. She just had to keep reminding herself of that.

 

* * *

 

Klaus spoke into the still darkness, voice hoarse and words slurred with exhaustion, “well that was highly uncharacteristic of you, Hayley.”

“I...don't know what to say...”

Klaus chuckled at her embarrassment, replying, “other than  _ oh god, yes Klaus, don’t ever stop fucking me Klaus, oh god yes _ ?” Then gently, after she buried her face he stated,“I believe our potions master had a hand in tonight.”

“Oh my god. I thought the blood tasted off. I thought it was just a really old batch or something.” She pushed up on her elbows, gasping, “Hope wanted to get back at me for forgetting her birthday.”

Klaus let out a loud laugh. His daughter was learning...

Hayley shook her head, hair splaying over the pillow. With a look of horror and eyes trained on the ceiling, she stated firmly, “we never speak of this again.”

He smirked, “wait, wait, wait, we must discuss this further. There are certain things that transpired here tonight that we must revisit. You can't take it all off the table, that's just unfair.” Klaus had eventually put his hand over her mouth while they had been in the middle of it all, for she would not stop begging him to take her harder. If he took her any harder he'd have hurt one or both of them.

“I'm going to go make sure Hope and Ada are home. I speak teenage girl fluently and I know if it were me on the other end of this, a fuck-potion would be the perfect cover to go sneak out. I bet they went to see that damn concert I told them they couldn't go to.”

“She's eighteen...” he reminded gently.

Hayley's nose jabbed into his shoulder as she turned quickly, wincing, “going out increases Ada's chances of getting infected. What do you think Hope will do the moment she finds out her best friend is dying? There are infected people out there as we speak.”

She was right again. He wasn't thinking clearly lately -completely blinded by his hatred for the impostor Elijah. He could hardly wait to visit with him come the full moon. At night, Klaus lies awake running through scenarios in his mind...things he will say to this man whose plan is to lay with his teenage niece. The parts where he tears away a certain appendage and shoves it down his screaming throat are always the ones that lull Klaus into the most peaceful of slumbers.

Hayley rolled out of bed, tugging on her loose shorts over her bare and perfectly shaped buttocks. He never wanted to stop touching her. He'd been addicted to many women for, usually, the wrong reasons. He felt connected to this woman in ways unknown to him before.

“I'll be right back,” she called over her shoulder, tugging her shirt on as she sped away.

  
  


* * *

 

 

Hayley poked her head into Hope's room. Only a cluster of low and waxy candles remain lit on the nightstand next to Ada. A book was propped open against her legs that she didn't look up from even though Hayley softly knocked on the open door.

Hope appeared from the closet, it looked as if she'd just changed into her pajamas.

“Hey mom,” she greeted without eye contact. Hayley crossed her arms, studying her daughter's face. She looked tired more than triumphant with her little potion trick.

Hayley shifted on her feet, asking under a tiny grin, “we even?”

Hope smiled sweetly, tucking herself into bed. “Dad was supposed to drink it too.”

“Well, nothing works out quite like we plan, does it?”

Hope's gaze dropped and Hayley decided to go easy on her. “Goodnight girls, no more spiking my food. Got it?”

They nodded and Hayley rolled her eyes when she caught the snickers echoing in the hallway as she took a detour downstairs. She needed more blood...but the kind without a ridiculous love potion.

Gripping the handle of the humming refrigerator, Hayley paused. A sound alerted her from somewhere in the courtyard. Cautiously, Hayley released her grip and padded softly towards the sound.

“Who in the hell are you?”

The woman, standing in a long hooded robe, turned her large green eyes upwards. Hayley's brow furrowed, there was something familiar about this face.

“I'm Willow. Ada's mother. And you are going to help me protect her from her father.”

“Henry? He's dead. So unless you have something else to say, I'd suggest you leave. It is Ada's choice if she wants to see you or not.”

“So it's true, she's here?”

“Leave now before I wake up the owner of this home.”

“I can help you.”

“We don't need any help.”

“You need a seer.”

Hayley narrowed her eyes, glancing towards the balcony in hopes Klaus had caught on by now that she'd been gone too long.

“I am a seer and it is time for me to play my part.”

Hayley's mouth parted in surprise. All this time they needed someone willing to help, and Ada had the power of sight through her mother? Did she even know?

Willow took a step forward, her eyes brimming with tears. “I first saw the vision of the infection when Ada was just a baby. Henry didn't want to believe any of it. I knew if I stayed, something horrible would happen to her. I had vampires hunting me for years for what I knew. New Orleans vampires.”

Hayley opened her mouth to ask what she saw, but her words were cut off at the sudden sound of bone and flesh caving. Hayley was familiar with that sound...knew it anywhere.

Willow crumpled to the ground, her heart still beating in an outreached hand. There, standing with darkened eyes and extended fangs, was Henry.

He let the heart drop to their feet with a bouncing splat. “Hello, Hayley...”

Something didn't look right. The way his eyes bore into hers...so coldly. She knew sometimes, changing into a vampire only brought out the worst in you. Maybe he was one of those unfortunate people.

Vincent Griffith strolled into the courtyard next, hands behind his back.

“I need the dagger,” he announced. Henry flinched at Vincent's voice, ducking his head. Placing a hand on Henry's shoulder, Vincent continued, “tell Elijah his leverage is gone and I will not allow the dagger to fall into his hands. I don’t have time to play these games and I certainly don’t buy that Hope didn’t take it.”

Hayley was having a hard time processing all the new information slamming her at once. Elijah's leverage was...Henry? Why did he need leverage unless to ask something of Hope in exchange for her ex lover... She clenched her fists.

Vincent glanced towards the balcony above, “tell Hope I'm ready to make an exchange.”

Finding her voice Hayley asked, “why do you need the dagger? And why does Elijah want it?”

“I need it to tether Cassandra's life to Kol's. Since he's been daggered and placed under my watch, I thought I'd get a little...experimental.”

“Uh huh, and Elijah? What does he need with it?”

“That's not for me to say. I just know he wanted me holding on to Henry here until he said otherwise.”

“Hope is asleep. Try in the morning,” Hayley said curtly, turning on her heel.

“First thing, Miss Marshall,” Vincent called after her.

As he was leaving, she stopped short halfway up the stairs, gripping the iron railing painfully tight.

“Wait.”

He stopped to glance over his shoulder, brows raised.

It was hard to ask. It really was. But things started to make sense. Things started to click into place...and once they did, she couldn't ignore the reality.

“Which Elijah asked you to hold on to Henry?”

A slow smile spread across Vincent's face. “Now, you're starting to ask the right questions.” He turned and walked away, tugging Henry's deflated figure behind him.

After she slipped back into bed, Klaus's arm slinging over her, Hayley stared unblinkingly at the wall. If the dagger went missing recently, it was because Hope retrieved it for impostor Elijah. Yet, impostor Elijah was supposed to only exist on the full moons. Ada's potion...was that more than just a light joke on Hope's part or was it to keep them busy?

“Your heart is racing,” Klaus whispered, his palm warm below her breasts.

She didn't know what to say. If she told him any of it he'd be up and yanking Elijah to confront Vincent and he'd figure this out way quicker and more thorough than she's managed so far. But all signs were pointing towards Hope being deceitful.

“I went downstairs for more blood and started thinking about the infection - it's worrying me.” It was partially true, these embellished half truth reasons as to why her heart hammered away as fast as the thoughts flying around her aching skull.

“Here, feed from me, you cannot restrict the blood or you will crave in ways you will not like nor be able to control.”

His wrist appeared against her lips as he waited patiently for her to give in. The guilt of hiding things from him should have stopped her from accepting...but it only fueled her need to bury the feeling under a blanket of temporary bliss.

She only vaguely remembers his fingers running gentle tracks down her cheek as she sipped him like brandy. It took everything she had to stop. He tried turning her but she wouldn't move, shaking her head. She couldn't do this to him. Lie and keep secrets while sharing his bed...it was wrong. It felt dirty.

“What is it?” he asked.

Hayley wet her lips, squeezing her eyes shut, “I have to handle a situation tomorrow. I need you to trust me, okay?”

He let out a long breath, his hands going slack against her. With a single kiss to the damp nape of her neck, he whispered, “so it begins.”

 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm a psychology geek as well. The idea for this story came from wondering what Hope would turn out like given her traumatic experiences as a child. Not only that, but she is likely genetically predisposed to personality disorders if her father is any indication. I come from past child abuse from an emotionally disturbed father and was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder in my late teens. This is a sort of therapeutic and close to my heart journey. I hope everyone gives our girl Hope a chance, it's a rocky road ahead. Borderlines are painted in awful lights and I hope to bring insight to the disorder.


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